


Drinking In The Lights, Following The Neon Signs

by RedRidingStiles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry Styles, Boys In Love, Casual Sex, Choking, Clubbing, Crack and Angst, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Drug Use, Illegal Cats, Louis Tomlinson is a Little Shit, Louis is bad at feelings, M/M, Minor Zayn Malik/Harry Styles, Minor Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson, Multi, Mutual Pining, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Public Sex, Sex Shop, Sexting, Slut Louis Tomlinson, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Top Louis Tomlinson, Weddings, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 50,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22444933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRidingStiles/pseuds/RedRidingStiles
Summary: "Are you sexting again?" Zayn groans, taking another drag of the spliff as he gives Louis a very unimpressed look."No, of course not. Why would I do that?" Louis tries. In his defense, he's very convincing. Zayn has just known him for too long, so he relents."Okay, so I may have met a boy.""How did you meet this boy that," Zayn pauses to swipe Louis' phone and look at the text. "Is dressed up like a fucking fairy?"Louis snatches his mobile back with an unimpressed glare, turning it over and looking at the picture. Harry's face down, arse up, flowers are woven into his hair and a pair of glittery wings strapped to his back, bejeweled plug poking out between his legs.Nice."I took his wallet, we bonded over sex toys. Had to give it back though, so I'm still gonna need that three hundred pounds," Louis answers distantly.Zayn takes a long drag from the spliff again, letting the smoke roll out of his mouth slowly before he speaks."Suck me off and I'll give you the money." Zayn sighs, like it's a chore for him, the arse.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson/Original Male Character(s), Niall Horan/Barbara Palvin, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 132





	Drinking In The Lights, Following The Neon Signs

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crack fic a wrote years ago with an old friend, I thought it was time to share this beauty with y'all, enjoy ;) Huge thank you to Chloe (@louandsunshine) for being my beta ily 
> 
> follow me on the bird app @lougetsmesohigh
> 
> (Miss you Liz, this is for you)

"I'm gonna be honest, I've never seen you look so unimpressed in my life," Louis says. He regrets his decision immediately.

"That's because I've never been this unimpressed in my life, Tommo," Zayn replies pointedly, pulling the cigarette from his mouth. Louis scoots closer to him on the couch, putting on his best homeless beggar impression.

"Zayn, please," He says cooly. "You know I love you. In fact, I love you enough to tell you that you shouldn't smoke inside, and you love me enough to spot me three hundred pounds."

"You could suck my dick and I still wouldn't give you three hundred pounds." Zayn deadpans, making Louis gasp because Zayn _knows_ what great head Louis gives.

"I can't believe you'd think so lowly of me to give sexual favors for money. You know I haven't done that since uni," Louis says, smirking as he lays himself across the back of Zayn's couch. "And before you say anything, I charged _four_ hundred pounds."

"Then go sell yourself to make your rent, I'm not giving it to you." Zayn shrugs, blowing the smoke from his cigarette into Louis' face.

The thing is, Louis is not poor. He works a decent job, makes a decent salary. But this particular month, he's fallen a bit behind. It doesn't help that his landlord discovered his illegal cat during a surprise check-up of his flat and threatened to evict him if he didn't pay the fee.

He may have also promised Stan he would never do what he did in uni after what happened to Stan's eyebrows.

"Zayn," He tries one last time, eyes pleading. "I'm going to be _on the streets_. You really want me to end up like that old bloke we met in London who offered to piss on us for ten quid?"

"Yes."

"You're a horrible best mate!" Louis cries, trying to guilt Zayn into it with his amazing acting skills.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Zayn mutters, playing with his phone as he sticks his cigarette in his mouth. Louis pouts his bottom lip out and presses close into Zayn's space.

"I will let you tie me up and rim me till I cry."

"As much as I would love to see you cry, I'm going to ask you to leave my flat now," Zayn sighs. Louis' quiet, slumping in his seat. He doesn't need Zayn anyway. He's got other ideas.

"Fine...but do you think we could cuddle and watch Captain America first?"

"Sure thing babes."

*

Of course, Louis picks the hottest fucking day to perform a heist. It's like, 200 degrees out in bloody London, like Louis is almost sure this is the first time he's ever seen his fucking shadow or the fucking sun for that matter and he picks today of all days to further his criminal career.

He really does question his university major; he could be the CEO of a major corporation making millions, but instead, he's reduced to picking pockets every time he gets fined. He's not too bad at it at least, he's only been caught like twice, maybe four times but he managed to get around it by giving a bit of head. (Zayn can fuck off he's the fucking best at giving blow jobs and no one should ever say no to an offer like that.) No one ever gets in trouble for petty crimes, anyway. That's what he tells himself, at least.

He's scanning the streets, dressed as casually as possible in black jeans and an Adidas tee, looking absolutely nothing like the culprit he's being forced to be. He tries to pick the best mark, someone who isn't poor but not too rich so they don't call the police.

Since he's good at reading people, it doesn't take his wandering eyes long to land on the perfect target. The timing is exceptional, as well, a lanky, doe-eyed boy exiting a shop just as Louis approaches. He falls into the crowd on the sidewalk and begins walking in the same direction as Louis, about ten feet ahead, a muscular, loose t-shirt clad back and mess of curls facing him. Louis would feel bad if he wasn't so perfect for his mission, and if he couldn't see his wallet poking halfway out of his back pocket, practically an invitation. The boy has at least four bags in one of his huge hands while the other holds his phone and a Starbucks cup that's half empty. Louis imagines he has at least a hundred pounds on him and probably a credit card.

Louis bites his lip and takes a breath before making his move, jogging up as to appear casual and catching the boy by the back of the neck.

"Hey, baby, finally caught up to you," He says, feigning breathlessness before he spins him around and presses their mouths together. The boy makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat and drops his bags and almost his phone onto the pavement, his eyes wide before they close and he starts to fucking _kiss back_.

It takes Louis aback so much he almost forgets the actual task at hand, but he comes to his senses long enough to reach behind him and swipe the wallet, too easily, then sticks it into his own pocket. And dammit, Louis didn't go to drama school for nothing. He pulls back with a grin but drops it as soon as he (or the character he's taken the role of) "realizes" this boy is in fact not his nonexistent boyfriend.

"Shit mate sorry, thought you were someone else," Louis apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries not to grin at the dazed look on the boy's face. He's so pretty, Louis wishes he wasn't under a ruse so he could maybe kiss him again until his lips are swollen and puffy. And like, wow, that's uncalled for, he is literally scamming this guy out of his money. He tries to shake himself out of it, but to no avail.

"Um, it's-yah its total fine uh-Harry. I'm Harry," The boy, Harry, rambles, coughing lightly as he bends over to pick up his bags again, shoving his phone into the tight tight tight pocket of his skinny jeans. Louis cocks his head, smiling. _God_ , he's adorable; Louis, as he has many a time, really regrets this choice. Harry clears his throat, smiling nervously.

"Do you really have a boyfriend, or...because that was quite honestly the smoothest pick-up move of all time," Harry says, seeming to have regained his composure a little.

"I may have just found you to be extremely cute, but would you like to hear about what great head I give?"

Louis would like to point out he is not one to brag, he's just incredibly smooth and gives _great fucking head_.

"You can tell me all about it, while we um, walk. S'just, people are glaring, busy sidewalk and all that," Harry says. Louis nods, trying not to panic about the fact that his mark can totally identify Louis in a line up after talking and see him for so long and if he gets thrown in prison he's so going to die. He's too pretty for prison. Hell, he was too pretty for _detention_ back in sixth form, and orange is so not his color, anyway.

"Louis. By the way," He blurts, and shit, _why_ did he say that. Now he's given his name, and he's tempted to fess up and give the wallet back before things get out of his hands, but he's already done enough stupid things for the time being.

"It's ah, great to meet you, Louis, you wanna walk with me to do a few errands?" Harry asks, his voice hopeful. Just about every fiber in Louis' being tells him to say no. However, Harry's pretty, and let him kiss him in the street upon meeting for god's sake, and for some reason, that makes his decision for him.

"Sure, yeah, sounds good," He says. He's an idiot, really. But Harry smiles like he just told him he won a free cat or something and switches his bags over to his other hand to clasp Louis' much tinier one in his own bear paw and starts to lead him down the street.

"So do you always go 'round kissing random boys on the street?" Louis asks as they walk. He could have come up with better, but Harry's wallet is getting increasingly heavier in his pocket, like some burden.

"Pretty sure you're the one who kissed me." Harry reminds, giving Louis a crooked smile.

"Touché. But you definitely kissed back," He points out, drumming the fingers of his free hand on his leg.

"What was I meant to do? A tiny pretty boy was kissing me." Harry laughs, biting on his smile as Louis squawks in protest.

"I'll have you know I'm very much average-sized. _You're_ just a giant," Louis argues.

"Sure love, whatever you say." Harry chuckles, giggling when Louis tries to push him over with their hands still attached. They quiet down after that, Harry (unnecessarily) letting go of his hand to open a door to a shop. He holds it open for Louis, making the shorter boy tease him about being a gentleman which in turn makes Harry blush and follow him into the shop. A shop full of dildos might he add.

"Woah. Bit forward," Louis comments, scanning the shelves. It's not like he's never been in a sex shop before, but the thought of this innocent creature using any of these monstrous toys on himself has him blushing (though he'll never admit it).

"I-I may have not thought this through," Harry admits, a blush creeping up his neck.

"S'okay, curly," Louis mutters. He wonders if Harry will try to buy something, then realize he's missing his wallet. The thought of playing the Comforting Friend while Harry frets is sort of staggering. He’s trying to think of a good enough excuse to leave when Harry pulls him down the anal play aisle.

"What exactly are we doing here?" Louis asks casually, out of genuine curiosity. He can't remember the last time he went on a dildo-shopping date.

"I need a plug," Harry says simply, looking over his choices thoughtfully. Louis fish mouths, his throat immediately drying.

"Oh."

To think he worked up the nerve to snog the guy, steal his wallet, and give him virtually all the information he needs to turn him in, yet he can't even form a proper sentence now over a piece of plastic, is astounding.

"Any- any particular one you're looking for?" Louis asks, his voice coming out just about as awkward as he feels.

"Big. Glass. Pink, preferably, but I'm flexible," Harry answers. Louis' going to pass out, he's sure of it.

"Any, reason?" Louis asks timidly, his eyes running over the glass section, taking in all of the different sizes and colors.

"Does anyone have a reason to shove things up their arse other than it feels good, really?" Harry muses.

"Guess not," Louis agrees, reaching out to grab a rather large, rather pink, rather sparkly, glass plug. Harry's eyes land on it, and it's both endearing and terrifying at how quickly his eyes light up.

"Perfect, and look, it has a little gem on the base," He says, grinning triumphantly.

"Yay," Louis cheers half-heartedly, patting himself on the back for not popping a semi and for not pushing the plug into Harry right now.

He may kiss him again.

Baby steps.

"Oh shit, this is weird, right?" Harry says, smile faltering a bit. It must've been Louis' tone, and he's really considering that kiss now. It is weird, is the thing, only Louis would be completely comfortable, that is, if it weren't for Harry's heavy wallet currently doing him no favors.

"No, course it's not. Trust me I've been shopping for ladies knickers with my best mate before, and they weren't for his girlfriend so." Louis reassures, laughing a bit to make Harry smile again.

"Oh. I feel that I can strongly relate to your best mate now, um - I mean, that's good, I guess," Harry rambles. Louis stares at him. He believes he may have kissed a different, more likable species, probably.

"Do you think strawberry lube would feel nicer than regular lube?" Harry asks thoughtfully as they walk further down the aisle.

"Um. I don't believe it would feel any different, actually. Unless you have a sweets fetish. They make stuff that heats up, though, I reckon that's nice," Louis answers, rather intellectually.

"What about cold? Do you think hot or cold would be better?" Harry questions, picking up two different bottles of lube and examining them intently.

"Cold would probably more intense, yeah? Like, everyone loves hot showers, and that's nice, but cold showers are a bit of a challenge? If you're into that. All about preference," Louis rambles, probably not making sense, definitely sounding like an idiot. He blames it on the joint he shared with Zayn before he left, though he's not sure that's a plausible excuse.

"I like a bit of a challenge, which do you think would hurt more?" Harry hums, turning his bright green eyes to bore into Louis' soul. He thinks Harry's eyes are a plausible excuse for his demise.

"If you're looking for pain, I believe you're in the wrong aisle, mate. It's just lube," Louis all but squeaks. He feels himself overheating, the same way his laptop does when he's spent three hours searching for porn that's not an eyesore. Yeah, he feels a lot like that right now (and if he's to continue the metaphor, this is the part where he's finally found the porn).

"Guess you're right, would you mind if I check out the BDSM section? See what they have for like, self-inflicted kinda stuff." Harry asks politely, making Louis breathe heavily through his nose and does not adjust his cock in his jeans.

"Actually," Louis breathes, voice stunted. "I would love to, but I have. An event. For which my appearance is very essential." He's not technically lying, he _does_ have to pay his landlord before tomorrow, has to feed his illegal cat, has to tend to the problem currently resting in his pants.

"Oh, alright well do you think I could maybe get your number?" Harry asks hopefully, biting his lip in a way that makes Louis want to bend him over the nearest hard surface, hell he doesn't care if it's a _soft_ surface- "And my wallet back?"

Louis blinks, and it takes him all of three seconds to fish both Harry's wallet and one of the 'business' cards with his mobile printed on that say ' _Call for a good time_ ' (Zayn gave him a set as a gag gift, but they're actually rather handy) out of his pocket, and thrust them towards Harry with wide eyes. Louis has a lot of awkward boners in his life, not excluding now, and he's never run out of a place so fast.

*

Harry texts him within an hour of Louis running out of the shop. It takes Louis twenty minutes to get the courage to open the text and another fifteen to teach himself how to breathe again after realizing Harry wasn't going to call the cops.

**'Heeeyyyy it's Harry u know the 1 u kissed today um I liked ur card !? And u know thanks for giving me my wallet back it was very nice of u'**

Nice.

It was _nice_ of him to return the wallet back, the wallet that he /stole/. Louis is absolutely dumbfounded. Who _is_ this kid?

' _Sorry m8, kissed a lot of boys today , gna have to elaborate_ ' He quickly responds.

' **Oh well we went butt plug shopping if that helps** ' is Harry responds not ten minutes later.

Louis' already grinning at his phone like an idiot. Well, he is sort of an idiot, but that's beside the point.

' _aha now that narrows it down how ya doing curly_ ' He types.

' **Good um was just wonderin if u would want to hang out or summit'** Harry replies, and Louis can almost hear the blush through Harry's text.

' _is porn not doing it for you ? is the butt plug stuck ?? you good ???_ ' Louis jokes. He's avoiding the question because he still hasn't had a wank, and he knows if he doesn't relieve himself Harry will have him popping a boner within five minutes.

 **'The plug is fine thank u the cooling lube really makes it intense and I may have gotten a few other things but yah. wanna do somethin?'** Harry responds, and fuck it. It's not Louis' fault when his hand gets shoved down his pants.

He's only a human.

' _how could u possibly wanna do something with some1 who tried to steal ur wallet'_ He types, struggling a bit with one hand. It's time like these he's glad he moved out of Zayn's flat and got his own because he can literally jerk off on his living room sofa with no one to judge.

 **'u seemed nice besides the whole wallet thing and I'm sure u had a good reason'** Harry replies, making Louis groan, 1) because how can anyone be that nice? And b) his cock is now fully hard and his hand feels so so good around it right now.

 _'maybe I just wanted to fuck u over'_ Louis sends, and hopes Harry can't read how tempting it was to leave off the last word.

 **'Or u just wanted to fuck me'** Harry fires back, making Louis curse and jerk his hips up into his hand. This fucking curly-haired cunt can read minds.

 _'maybe_ ' He answers, vague enough to give Harry an opening to either keep going or change the subject. He doesn't mind which he chooses, he'll definitely get off either way.

"Holy mother of fucking Christ you crazy motherfucking curly-haired arsehole fucker," Louis hisses as a picture message of the boy's perky bejeweled bum shows up, with fucking light pink panties stretched across the smooth milky skin of his arse. The message attached to it saying: 'what about now ; )'

Louis takes a few minutes to respond, or maybe he takes a few minutes to stare at the photo and work his hand faster over his cock, he's not sure.

 _'jesus, curly, u look good'_ He types. He wonders if it's too much to attach a photo of his leaking cock peeking out from his trousers, and maybe it is, but he does it anyway.

 **'Someone's excited'** is what Louis gets back, along with another picture, this one of Harry with a hand down the front of his panties. Okay, not too much. Louis exhales, admittedly a little shakily.

' _what ya thinking about_ ' He sends, too far along to bother with proper grammar or punctuation.

 **'You fuckin me with the plug xx'** Harry replies after a few minutes. A video attached this time of Harry pushing the plug in and out of himself, the audio just barely picking up his little whimpers and gasps and lube squishing as he moves the plug. It's faint but it's enough for Louis to hear them and give his cock a hard squeeze so he doesn't come on the spot.

 _'yeah? u seem to be having a grand time. sound fucking gorgeous baby'_ He finally bites the bullet and pushes his trousers over his hips, taking his hand away from his cock momentarily to snap another picture of it curved toward his belly, a damp spot of precome on his t-shirt where the tip touches. He leans his head back on the back of the couch and angles the camera so it captures his upturned jaw and a bit of his slightly open mouth.

 **'Wish it was u xx bet u could make me feel so good xx'** Harry replies, another picture attached, this one of Harry tugging on his cock with his panties stuffed half in his mouth.

"Oh my god," Louis groans. His hand flies on his cock, and he makes it a good thirty seconds more before he spills his load into his fist with a muted grunt. He brings his come-covered hand to his lips, careful not to smear any of the mess onto his sofa, and presses two fingers down onto his tongue, come dribbling past his lips and down his other three fingers. He's quick to snap a picture, captioned _'Sorry Im a bit ahead of schedule. gonna have to make it up to you xx'._

 **'That's alright love im pacing myself today anyways xx'** Harry replies, a picture of his throbbing cock with a clear ring around it attached to the message.

Louis spends a few moments typing gibberish as he ponders a response, even considers sending 'gisnndkenssn' because it reflects exactly how he feels, but instead he carefully types out _'cant wait to get my hands on u. ur pretty face is perfect for sitting on, u know that?? x'._

 **'Can't wait xx'** Is what Louis gets back, along with a picture of Harry smiling at the camera with the panties still in his mouth.

"Hey, Lou, didn't you get my text, I brought vod - well," Comes a voice, and Louis' head snaps up so fast he's sure he's hurt himself. Zayn is in the doorway of the living room, blinking at him with wide eyes cast offensively downward.

"Still can't make it to your room I see," Zayn says after a minute of Louis just glaring at him. His words making Louis glare even more.

Zayn is a prick.

"Whatever, nothing you haven't seen before," He finally sighs, stripping off his soiled shirt and picking his trousers up off the ground. Harry's photo is still on the screen of his mobile, and frankly, Louis doesn't give a shit if Zayn sees it, but for the sake of Harry's privacy, he switches off the screen.

"What were you wanking to then? Didn't even have your laptop and I know how picky you are about your porn." Zayn integrates, following Louis into his room.

"Who said I was wanking? Maybe I just enjoy sitting on the sofa with no pants on. Now, what's this about vodka?" Louis snips, snatching the unopened bottle of Grey Goose from Zayn's hand.

"Your hand is covered in come." Zayn points out, making Louis huff as he unscrews the bottle and takes a large drink.

"God, you're nosy. Remember that time I caught you trying to suck your own dick? And when you told me you were just examining a bump on your thigh I pretended to believe you? Sometimes mates do that, for the sake of sanity," Louis rambles, taking another long swig.

"You're a shit person you know that? Just curious, though you would be drowning yourself in the toilet about your rent." Zayn shrugs, looking completely unaffected by Louis' words.

"Really? How about 'how'd it go, Lou. You get arrested? Punched? Chased? Are you being evicted onto the street, hey, maybe you could move in with me.' And _I'm_ the shit person, please, Zayn," Louis scoffs.

"You wanking on the couch is one of the reasons you moved out in the first place." Zayn reminds, completely skipping over asking if Louis is okay. He has a shit best mate. Like the worst.

"I moved out because I felt competent enough to pay my own rent." Zayn gives him a look and starts to open his mouth to retort.

" _Don't_ say it," Louis says. He picks up his mobile with his clean hand, feeling bad for leaving Harry hanging. He shoots him a quick _'sorry got held up. u come yet?'_

"Whatever bro, wanna get smashed and watch Iron Man?" Zayn asks, jumping onto Louis' bed and pulling a spliff out of his pocket.

There it is.

The reason Louis actually keeps Zayn around. He anxiously checks his phone, takes a sip of vodka, then hops up.

"Always. Lemme wash my hands," He answers eagerly.

"Hurry the fuck up," Zayn calls out as Louis' runs to the bathroom, rinsing his hands and checking his phone again to see if Harry had text back.

' **nope** ' An unopened message reads. Louis bounces back into his bedroom, spraying Zayn with his wet hands.

"Fucker," Zayn mutters, letting Louis cuddle up to him after he had put in the movie.

 _'good. don't'_ Louis types, careful to angle his phone away from Zayn. He doesn't need another lecture about how sexting is unhealthy.

 **'Is that an order?** ' Harry texts back just as Zayn shoves the joint into Louis' half-open mouth.

Louis sputters and nearly drops it to the sheets, eyes glued to his phone screen.

 _'depends if youre gonna follow it or not'_ He replies, holding a hand out blindly for a lighter without lifting his head.

Zayn passes one to him and he lights up as Harry's next text comes through. **'Only if I get to call you daddy xxxx'**

Louis' pretty sure he mutters a "fuck" out loud. He's starting to reconsider his decision, because give him another five minutes of this, combined with the smoke currently curling into his lungs, and he'll be rock hard again. _'so filthy baby. what are you doing right now?'_

 **'About to play dress up, wanna see?'** Harry replies, Zayn trying to look over his shoulder to see who he's texting.

"It's Robert Downey Jr. kicking arse, Lou, and you're not even paying attention. What the fuck are you looking at?" He whines, stealing the joint from Louis' mouth.

"Not like I haven't seen my dad in this movie over a million times, Z." Louis huffs, tilting his phone away from Zayn.

"I know I'm your only friend, anyway. Are you watching porn?" Zayn asks, still craning his neck. Just then another picture comes through, and he hurries to plant his mobile face down on the sheets.

"Are you sexting again?" Zayn groans, taking another drag of the spliff as he gives Louis a very unimpressed look.

"No, of course not. Why would I do that?" Louis tries. In his defense, he's very convincing. Zayn has just known him for too long, so he relents.

"Okay, so I _may_ have met a boy."

"How did you meet this boy that," Zayn pauses to swipe Louis' phone and look at the text. "Is dressed up like a fucking fairy?"

Louis snatches his mobile back with an unimpressed glare, turning it over and looking at the picture. Harry's face down, arse up, flowers are woven into his hair and a pair of glittery wings strapped to his back, bejeweled plug poking out between his legs.

Nice.

"I took his wallet, we bonded over sex toys. Had to give it back though, so I'm still gonna need that three hundred pounds," Louis answers distantly.

Zayn takes a long drag from the spliff again, letting the smoke roll out of his mouth slowly before he speaks.

"Suck me off and I'll give you the money." Zayn sighs, like it's a chore for him, the arse.

Louis pretends to consider, well, he actually is considering. Considering whether it'd be appropriate to send Harry a selfie once he's got Zayn's cock in his mouth.

"Give me a minute," Louis mutters to Zayn, the younger boy rolling his eyes and waving his hand as Louis types out a text to Harry.

 _'look so pretty. want you to fuck yourself on the plug, don't touch your cock. also how would you feel if i sent you live footage of me sucking my mate's dick??? xxxx_ '

 **'Is he pretty?'** Harry sends back, a picture of Harry with three fingers shoved in his mouth attached.

"I'm leaving the offer on the table for about thirty more seconds, Tommo," Zayn sighs, Louis glaring at him as he types _'doesn't matter, you wouldnt see him (yes)'._

 **'Yes please xx'** Harry texts back a second later.

"I have a preposition," Louis announces as he crawls between Zayn's legs, taking the joint and inhaling before stubbing it out in an ashtray for later. "Record me, and I'll only make you give me 250?"

"Sending it to your boy toy?" Zayn asks, opening the camera app on Louis' phone as the boy starts to rub him through his jeans.

"No, I want it for my wank bank," Louis says sarcastically, but his following smirk reads triumphant. Sucking Zayn off with Marvel in the background almost brings him back to his uni days. The thought is enough for him to duck his face down below Zayn's jaw, sucking idly at his neck and feeling his stubble scratch against his cheek.

"He sent you another text, says he wants a pic of me," Zayn mutters, typing on Louis' phone for a moment before snapping a picture of Louis sucking a bruise onto his neck, giving the camera a crooked smile.

"I didn't say you could read my texts," Louis murmurs, but he's only half-serious. He scoots closer, gripping Zayn through his trousers.

"He says he wants to join us, and he sent a video of him playing with his plug." Zayn comments, ignoring Louis completely, which, rude.

"Ooh, lemme see," Louis opts instead of complaining, lifting his head and feeling a bit woozy from Zayn's aftershave. It's probably the weed.

"You're meant to be sucking my dick," Zayn reminds, but lets Louis see anyways.

Louis watches Harry wiggling the plug around, not really pumping in and out as much as he is grinding on it, neglected cock red and twitching against his belly.

"Fuck he looks so good." Louis breathes out, his cock twisting in his jeans.

"Yes. I give you props. However I will not be giving you 250 pounds to stare at your little boyfriend fucking himself on a plug," Zayn says, annoyance in his tone.

"Yah yah, just film me," Louis says with a roll of his eyes, giving a playful bite to Zayn's jaw before crawling back down his body.

Zayn hums in approval, carding his fingers through Louis' fringe as the older boy unbuttons his trousers, nosing at his crotch.

"Kinda missed this babe." Zayn sighs, smiling as the boy bites at his thigh.

"Not my fault you got a boyfriend and cut me off," Louis mumbles bitterly. The relationship didn't work out, of course, but they'd never really resumed their old habits.

"Oi, jealous are we?" Zayn chuckles, Louis getting closer to his cock.

"Can't say I never missed your cock. You're the only person I let eat me out, you know," Louis says pointedly, tugging Zayn's jeans over his thighs insistently.

"Hmm, maybe I should return the favor then, I'll even give you the 50 pounds for it." Zayn hums, his cock standing up against his shirt. Louis thinks it's kinda a crime he still has a shirt on.

"You want to pay me 50 pounds so you can make me come? So chivalrous," Louis jokes, pulling at the hem of Zayn's shirt until he gets the hint and strips it over his head.

"What can I say, I'm a generous person." Zayn grins, stroking back Louis' fringe and giving it a slight tug.

"Mm," Louis hums. "You taping?" He grips Zayn's cock in his hand, pushing the foreskin back and pulling him off slowly.

"Yeah," Zayn replies softly, the phone in one hand while the other is embedded in Louis' soft hair, guiding him slightly.

Louis glances up momentarily before taking the tip into his mouth, massaging Zayn's thighs gently.

"Yeah, that's it, baby," Zayn sighs blissfully, watching Louis through the camera.

Louis hates when Zayn talks to him like that, but the camera is a bit of a disadvantage; he can't exactly argue. To get back at him Louis sucks hard on the head of his cock, making his leg twist and kick out as he continues to focus on the head. He presses his tongue to the underside of the head while keeping up with the suction, moaning just for the fact that Harry will be watching.

"Don't be a minx," Zayn mutters, pushing at Louis' head. Louis' going to fucking punch him after this; the bastard knows he's taking advantage of Louis' apparent malleability. He takes him down further anyway, pressing hard into his hips. Zayn chuckles, the bastard knows what he's doing and Louis is going to smoke the rest of the spliff without him just to piss him off and because Zayn has really nice weed.

Louis loves going down on people, is the thing, never fails to get him so turned on he'll be literally gagging for it by the end. This is no exception. In fact, he thinks he might be even more turned on knowing that Harry is going to see him suck off his best mate. Going to watch Louis make him come so hard all while he has a plug that _Louis_ picked out for him inside his tight little bum.

"Would ya check up on Harry? Make sure he hasn't come?" Louis asks, pulling off just momentarily before taking him back down, all the way to the base.

"Sure babe, how you doing there Harry?" Zayn mutters, he had FaceTimed Harry once Louis had got his pants off, the boy on the other end was biting his lip and watching the screen closely. Louis glances up and catches Harry's eyes, all flushed with his mouth swollen and parted. It sends him into some state of fiery want, he sucks Zayn down my eagerly, bobbing his head like his life depends on it.

Zayn groans lowly, biting his lip and closing his eyes as he watches Louis take him further down. Louis only deep throats for certain people, and Zayn is not one of them, simply because the one time he did it Zayn made fun of his hoarse voice for the entire rest of the day. This time, though, he's willing, and he's a little bit high but it's mostly for the sake of Harry anyway. He has to show off his skills for the boy, show him what he can really do. He braces himself on Zayn's thighs and relaxes his throat, feeling the muscles flutter and the head of his cock slips past the barrier.

"Christ," Zayn curses, just as Harry whimpers through the phone, his hand pressing down on his cock as he watches Louis. Louis pulls off, making both Zayn and Harry curse.

"I told you not to touch," He says pointedly to Harry, then looks at Zayn, says, "And you - choke me," before pressing his head back down.

"Fuck," Harry and Zayn breathe out at the same time, Harry's hand flying off his cock and Zayn's hand pushing Louis farther down on his cock, till the blue-eyed boy starts to gag slightly. Louis wishes he could give Harry orders, but it's a bit hard with his mouth full, Zayn's cock stuffed so far down his throat he'll choke if he so much as flinches. He looks up at Zayn who is watching both the phone and Louis with a smoldering look. Louis catches his eye and because of some bro pal best mate bond, he knows exactly what Louis wants. He pulls off and they scramble to switch positions, Zayn dropping the mobile in the process. He picks it up again as soon as Louis' lying on his back, a small mountain of pillows stuffed behind his head. He gives the camera a lazy smile, hearing Harry's tiny whimpers through the speakers.

"You okay baby?" Louis asks Harry, the boy whimpering again before answering.

"Yeah, yeah. Just - wanna come," Harry pants, and Louis motions for Zayn to come closer.

"Have you been a good boy?" Louis questions, watching Harry bite his lip hard enough to turn it white.

"I - I think so," he says, almost too quiet to hear. "Haven't touched."

"Hmm," Louis hums, making Zayn chuckle quietly above him.

He mouths "dick" down at Louis, fist pumping his cock slowly where he sits straddling Louis' hips.

"Please...please daddy." Harry whimpers, his voice barely audible but Zayn and Louis both hear it.

They exchange a look and have a silent conversation, Zayn raising his eyebrows to which Louis responds with a shrug.

"You can come when Zayn does baby," Louis tells him softly, Harry bowing his head and nodding.

"Go ahead and touch yourself, if you want. But _don't_ come before Zayn," He adds as an afterthought, pulling Zayn closer by the hips and straining his neck to wrap his lips around the head of his cock. Harry whimpered out a 'yes daddy' as Zayn feed his cock into Louis' mouth till Louis' nose hit his stomach.

"Tap my thigh if you need a minute, you know the drill," Zayn mutters before pumping his hips once, shallow and experimental. If Louis' honest, it really has been a while. He's sucked a lot of cock in his life, and he wasn't aware gag reflexes could grow /back/, but at least he hides his sputters well. He hears Harry making soft noises through the phone as he watches Zayn fuck Louis' mouth roughly. Louis' skills rejuvenate surprisingly quickly, and he only has to push Zayn away once to catch his breath.

"Do you want me to come on your face?" Zayn asks, getting a cute little moan from Harry and a smirk from Louis.

"Only if you buy my drinks next time we go out," Louis answers, voice shot to hell.

"Fine, but only because you look good with come all over you," Zayn mutters, his hand stroking over his cock lazily.

"Makes my skin glow," Louis agrees sarcastically, but he's cut off by warm streaks of come splattering his skin.

"Fuck," Harry whimpers through the speakers, coming into his hand as he watches Zayn come all over Louis. Louis blinks and swallows the few drops that made it into his mouth, fingers dancing on Zayn's thigh as he comes down. Louis sighs blissfully stretches his arms out, grabbing the phone from Zayn to watch Harry come down from his orgasm.

"You did amazing, babe, how do you feel?" he asks softly, palming himself through his pants.

"Good, the-the plug makes me feel more full now too," Harry informs shyly.

Louis laughs breathily, finding Zayn's wrist blindly and bringing it down to the bulge in his pants. He's so incredibly hard, there's no way he'll last more than three or four good tugs.

"Want me to eat you out?" Zayn questions, bending down to nibble at Louis' jaw.

"Probably won't last long enough to roll over," Louis admits hoarsely, shaking his head slowly as he speaks.

"Rain check?" Zayn hums, his lips moving up towards Louis', sucking at the boy's bottom lip. Louis does his best to angle the camera right so Harry can see, his tongue darting out to meet Zayn's.

"Oh-shit," Harry breathes out shakily, biting at his finger as he watches the two boys snog. Zayn smirks and snakes his hand down Louis' chest and belly, poking four fingertips just under his waistband.

"Zayn," Louis moans, reaching out to tug Zayn down by the hair to give him a hard, bruising kiss. Finally, Zayn gives him what he wants, worming his hand further into his pants and wrapping a tight grip around his cock.

"Christ," Louis curses, throwing his head back against the pillow as Zayn works him over. It takes about ten seconds of fast, dirty tugging before he spills over Zayn's fist with a throaty groan. He rides it out with Zayn's hand still pumping him, the raven-haired boy not letting up till Louis slapped his hand away and pulled him down for another kiss Harry is staring into the lens with glassy eyes, fingers playing with the come left on his belly.

"Guys, daddy." Harry whimpers as Louis and Zayn continue to lazily makeout. Louis breaks away to look at him, eyes hooded and grinned lazily.

"Yeah, baby?" He asked, voice absolutely wrecked. Harry pouts his shiny, red bottom lip out, his eyes roaming over Louis and Zayn's bodies.

"I'll get you soon, promise," Louis whispers, fingers trailing over Zayn sides, through his hair, down his jaw. Zayn nods, kissing Louis softly on his swollen lips.

"You want to come hang out with us Harold?" Louis asks the boy, turning his attention to the phone once again. Harry cocks a shy smile, shaking his head once.

"Better not, my mum's coming over for dinner in a few hours and I still need to clean up. Don't exactly want to look like I just got double teamed by two pretty boys when she shows," He answers. "Um, sometime, though. Definitely."

"Alright curly, text me, yah?" Louis says, giving Harry a bright smile.

"Yeah. Talk to you later, and nice, er, meeting you, Zayn," Harry says, nodding before giving a slight wave and ending the call. Zayn lays down next to Louis and wraps him up in his arms as Louis tosses his phone onto the nightstand.

"He's good for you, you know. I can tell," Zayn says after a moment.

"Shut up, I only met him today," Louis grumbles, not wanting to get into the emotional shit.

"But, you - you know how to talk to him and that's why it never worked out between us. I just think you should date him a little, see what's it like to be in a real relationship. Getting old," Zayn says. Louis rolls his eyes; he _always_ rambles after he's come.

"It didn't work out between us because you never make me breakfast after the first time we fucked. Rude bastard." Louis huffs, pinching Zayn's nipple hard.

"I did wake you up by throwing a Pop-Tart at your head, actually," Zayn argues, finally dropping the subject. Louis hits him, and that's that.

*

Louis has always thought of himself to have a healthy sex life, he didn't have sex twelve times a day and he didn't pull someone from a shady club every night and he didn't have any STDs so yah, healthy. So he's sort of wondering why he's letting a pretty boy who's wallet he tried to steal and his best mate plow him into the mattress. (Yes, at the same time.)

He hasn't gotten off like this since he was 19 and let anyone slightly decent and willing to pay to take him to bed. They only do it once, the three of them, at least. Louis can't stay away from Harry, though.

They don't always hook up, no, sometimes they watch movies and order take away and snog on Louis' bed without the intention of it actually leading anywhere, and that's the worst part. Louis doesn't date, he made it a rule soon after Zayn and he started fucking. He didn't want to fuck up their friendship with love and all that bullshit but the sex was fun and Louis didn't have to worry about picking random blokes up from the bar. Then the fucking stopped and Louis was lonely and went straight back to his old ways for about a week before he realized it was all stupid and stuck to his own for a while. Now Harry's in his life so much that when Louis offered to blow Zayn he had brushed him off with a clap on the shoulder and said, "Nah, don't wanna make your boy jealous."

This throws Louis into a fifteen minute rant on how Harry and he are not dating and Zayn shouldn't assume things without confirmation and he only shuts up when Zayn shoves his cock down his throat just to get him to shut the hell up.

Just as he's finished up and wiped his mouth, he receives a text from Harry, reading **'I rented the first 3 seasons of breaking bad come over and watch it with meeee??'** Zayn peeks over his shoulder and proceeds to flick him hard in the side of the head.

"Wanker," Louis mutters, rubbing his head as he shoots a text back to Harry telling him he's on his way.

He jerks off quickly in the bathroom to avoid temptation and then heads out, resolutely telling himself that they will /not/ be cuddling. Louis doesn't know what no means apparently because ten minutes in Harry and him are a tangle of limbs on Harry's soft bed. They make it to the third episode before Harry starts kissing his neck and crawling down his body, and Louis should tell him no, but he wouldn't be able to handle Harry's doe eyes, or that he'll think he's done something wrong, so he just covers his eyes and lets it happen.

So they fuck and it's great, mind-blowing amazing and Harry calls him _daddy_ for fucks sakes and then they cuddle some more and sleep till 10 and Harry makes him _breakfast_ and Louis throws himself off the nearest cliff. Louis leaves by eleven with the excuse that he has to get ready for work, which isn't exactly a lie, but he doesn't actually have to be at work for another three hours. Harry kisses him sweetly on the mouth as he's walking out, and Louis considers driving into a tree twice on the drive home. When he gets home he flops onto his bed and conspires with himself on the best way to hang himself from the ceiling fan. He comes up with several scenarios, but he's a bit sore in all the right places and doesn't really have the energy to peel back his blankets, so he relays his problems to his illegal cat and sulks.

*

"Harry, what the fuck?" Niall shouts, well it's not really shouting when it's just how Niall talks, but.

"What?" Harry asks incredulously, throwing his arms in the air dramatically.

"Are you seriously dating someone who stole your fucking wallet?" Niall asks in disbelief, chewing loudly on a handful of chirps.

" _Dating_ is a strong term, Ni. And anyway, he gave it back, I told you that already," Harry argues.

"You call him daddy and had sex with his best mate and him **a** _t the same time,_ yes dating is a strong term and now that I look at the situation at large I understand," Niall says with a roll of his eyes, giving Harry a very unimpressed look.

"Oh my god, it's not -- why are you being like this? He's nice and funny and a good kisser and he _really_ knows how to fuck, I mean let me tell you -," He cuts himself off waving his hands in the air. "Never mind, that's not the point. The _point_ is, you're my best mate and you're supposed to support me."

"I'm your best mate and I'm meant to keep you out of jail and from getting your heartbroken." Niall corrects, giving Harry a pointed look.

"Niall, please. It's just casual, anyway," Harry says, but even he hears the doubt in his own voice.

"You are going to invite him to dinner with Babs and I and I will see if he's good enough for you, which he isn't, and I'll give him the talk," Niall states, pointing a finger at Harry.

"What? Absolutely not, I will not have you and your - stupid Irish brogue scare him away," Harry argues, shaking his head resolutely. His phone feels heavy in his pocket with the latest text from Louis, which he hasn't gotten the chance to read yet since Niall ever so rudely began to interrogate him on his sex life.

"I will call your mum right now." Niall threatens, making Harry scowl at him.

"Fine. But only if you pay, for all of us. Not everybody has ginormous inheritances from dead grandmothers, you know," Harry caves, and he hates it, but Niall never makes empty threats.

"Deal." Niall nods, giving Harry a bright smile before digging back into his bag of chirps.

Harry groans and covers his face with his hands before finally digging his phone out of his pocket.

 **'Heeeyyy would u possibly like to go to a free dinner with me and my mate and his gf???'** Harry types out, sending it to Louis as he bites his lip.

The thing is, they've never actually gone out together. Harry's not really worried that Louis will say no, just...he's a little worried Louis will say no.

 _'Free booze too??'_ Louis sends back, making Harry smile slightly.

 **'Obviously what is dinner without getting plastered ?????!!!!!'** Harry replies, pocketing his phone as Niall is now shooting him daggers from the across the coffee table. The effect is a little negated when he's got crumbs sticking to his cheeks, but still.

"What?" Harry asks defensively, his eyes on his hands.

"Nothing, you just text him every waking moment. How am I meant to like this guy when he's stealing my best mate?" Niall whines, literally throwing himself across the coffee table to paw at Harry's legs. He's an idiot.

"He's not stealing me you git," Harry mutters, patting Niall's head as he digs his phone back out when it vibrates.

 _'Aha the man has a point. U got a day in mind??'_ Louis texts.

 **'Tonight, 7ish?** ' Harry shoots back, his thumbs flying over his phone screen.

 _'woah curly what if I already made plans with my band of strippers???'_ Harry receives a moment later, but then another text comes through that reads, _'kidding that's next week. Will be there cant wait to see ur ugly mug !!_ '

 **'Alright do u want me to pick you up?** ' Harry questions, trying not to smile too hard.

 _'sure. Dress code ?'_ Louis replies.

 **"Well since Ni is paying probably something fancy to milk it so niceish** ' Harry replies, imagining Louis laughing at his text.

 _'ok great but I am most definitely wearing my glitter briefs for later ; )'_ is Louis' response.

 **'Can't wait to get u out of them ; )'** Harry texts back.

 _'was thinking I might eat you out sometime?? what you think'_ Louis texts back, and Harry has to stick his phone in his pocket, only to take it right back out again.

**'Yes please xxxx'**

"Stop fucking sexting you animal," Niall groans, snatching Harry's phone out of his hands.

"Hey," Harry whines, making grabby hands for his mobile. He doesn't really care if Niall sees his messages, but he does blush a bit as he scrolls, making various faces of disgust.

"You're like a lovesick puppy, Christ," Niall says with a shake of his head, typing at the screen for a minute.

"What the fuck are you doing," Harry deadpans, straining his body to peek at what Niall's typing.

"Niall," Harry whines, trying to grab his phone from the blonde boy.

Finally, he snatches it, pout on his lips, and frantically searches to see what Niall fucked up.

**'wanna shove my cock in ur ear so hard till u go deaf'**

"Niall what the fuck!" Harry screams, looking at his best friend in utter horror. He doesn't even get a chance to apologize for his mate's reckless actions before Louis' reply comes through. ' _How did you know I was into that??????'_

"Oh my god," Harry mutters to himself, not sure how to go about this. In the end, he decides to play along. **'Read it on ur Facebook profile : )'**

 _'Stalking me now curly ??'_ Louis sends back.

 **'Healthy research. Also quality shots of u out clubbing..all hot and sweaty ; )'** Harry types out. Niall is now rolling around on the floor, complaining about Harry's sexting habits.

 _'Not the only quality shots on there, didnt go back to my uni days i see'_ Louis replies, Harry's eyes widening before he's logging onto his Facebook.

' **Quite jealous I didn't know u back then'** Harry types out after he's scrolled through two full pages of Louis in skimpy rave costumes, hanging off the arms of boys and girls alike, the occasional snogging selfie with tongue and all. He sends another message, **'does ur mum see these things???? '**

' _Zayn runs a 'official Louis Tomlinson' Facebook so I could get a job and look me mum in the eye'_ Louis explains, making Harry giggle.

 **'Good, this page is sinful. Gonna wank off to it later probably'** Harry sends, and God, /why/ does he always have to whip out the sexy responses?

' _would be offended if u didnt ; )'_ Louis says back.

 **'ok I gotta go Ni all is harassing me but see youue latwyerf** ' Harry types, knocked over by Niall suddenly jumping on him and tickling him relentlessly. They end up staying on the ground till they are both out of breath and Harry had successfully hit Niall in the balls. He figures Niall texting Louis **'i want 2 pee in ur mouth make u choke on it till it comes out of ur nose and eyeballs' is fair payback.**

*

So, Niall is in love with Louis. Literally, Louis had barely gotten through introducing himself before Niall dragged Harry to the loo and declared, "I fucking love that guy."

Harry had gloated for a moment before Louis had burst into the room and proclaimed if they were having sex then he wanted in. It was only fair after sharing Zayn.

  
Harry snorted and dragged him out of the toilet before Niall could even consider it. Poor Barbara was alone at the table, anyway. The night goes better than Harry could ever imagine, Niall keeps looking at Louis like he's the next coming of Christ (Harry thinks that too but has decided not to mention it) and Barbara seems to like him too and they are all drinking and eating expensive food that Niall is paying for. Louis even rests his hand on Harry's thigh every once in a while, only for a few moments each time, but it's warm and nice anyway. After dinner, they all decide to go to the club a few blocks away to dance and have a few more drinks. Louis invites Zayn to come out with them, but he says he'd rather stay in. Threesomes aside, Zayn is a rather reserved guy.

After a few hours of heavy drinking and lots of snogging (Niall even had a go at Louis), Harry and Louis are grinding against each other on the dance floor. They keep exchanging messy kisses every few minutes, lips slick with liqueur and saliva. Harry is flushed and drunk and horny and he's pretty sure he's never had a better night. They stay out till last call and are physically thrown out of the club by the bouncer.

"Let's - cab. To yours," Harry says breathlessly, plastered to Louis' side. Everything is swaying and he's aware that can't really hold his own body upright, but he's also aware that /Louis/ is here and Louis is radiant and he wants him so, so bad.

"Calm down love," Louis speaks gently, flagging down a cab and helping Harry into the back seat.

"I know a way you could calm me down," Harry slurs, tilting his head back as he giggles at his joke, as though it made any sense.

"Shh sweetheart." Louis hushes the boy, telling the cabby his address. Harry hums sweetly and tangles his fingers in Louis' shirt collar, effectively wrinkling it, and presses his mouth to Louis' ear.

"Will you fuck me, daddy?" Harry whispers, making Louis hold back a groan.

"We'll see," He answers, throat tight. "Depends if you're still awake when we get back." He knows the answer; he's had too much internal conflict to handle Harry, and he won't take advantage when he's sloshed, anyway. The rest of the cab ride is a mess of Harry palming Louis through his trousers and Louis trying his best to get him to keep his hands to himself.

"Yeah, gonna fuck me so good, I know it," He keeps whispering, along with other things along the same lines. Louis apologizes to the cabbie when they arrive, paying his fare along with a hefty tip. He drags Harry out of the car, practically dead weight by now. He manages to get Harry up to his room, shooing his illegal cat off the bed before dumping Harry onto it and pulling the blanket up and over him.

"Hey, you - Louis, Lou, I'm so hard, please," He whines, but his voice is quiet and hoarse from all the shouting he'd been doing in the club.

"Go to sleep love." Louis sighs, petting down Harry's mess of curls.

" _Please_ , daddy, need you, please," He whimpers, although his eyes are drooping and he's clearly trying to sit up but it only amounts to helpless squirming.

"Sleep darling," Louis repeats, standing up and grabbing his phone charger and a shirt that Harry had left here and walked into the living room. He hears Harry whining after him, almost childishly, but Louis uses the last of his willpower to collapse on the couch.

It's not like he's much better than Harry, alcohol-wise, any drunker and he probably would've given him what he wanted, but he'd paced himself at least a little bit better. He plugs in his phone and lays back on the couch, stretching out and yawning. Even when he finally falls asleep, he's restless. He has to tell Harry that this - this thing they're having isn't healthy, or working, come morning. He feels like shit, if he's honest, that he let Harry become anything more than a one night stand.

Harry wakes up around ten, coming out of Louis' room with sleepy eyes and his long lanky limbs making him stumble into the room. He's got Louis' comforter wrapped around him, having stripped out of his clothes at some point, and the bags under his eyes are large and dark. Louis' been awake for hours, already having eaten and Advil-ed through his hangover, but just looking at Harry's sleepy figure makes his head pound.

"There's some eggs in the pan on the stove and some Advil on the counter," Louis says as a greeting. Harry smiles weakly and stumbles toward the kitchen. Louis' somewhat relieved that he doesn't seem to be cross with him, but by now Harry probably realizes he was being ridiculous the previous night, or maybe he doesn't remember at all. When Harry comes back it's with a plate of eggs and toast and a slightly more awake expression.

"Why're you out here? Was I kicking you or something?" He inquires as he sits, nibbling on his food. His voice is ruined and tired, similar to his entire demeanor.

"No, um. The thing is curly-" Louis has no idea how to go about this with our making the boy cry. Harry furrows his brows in confusion, crunching idly on the corner of his toast.

"Well, like you know this..thing between us has been nice and yah-um we've had sex before but like-we can't do it anymore." Louis gets out, not meeting Harry's eye. Harry just sort of stares at him blankly for a moment, his fork frozen in the air. It's agonizing.

"Oh," Is all he says when he finally manages to respond, eyes flitting around.

"Like we can still be mates of course," Louis is quick to reassure.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Harry mumbles. He's clearly trying not to let the disappointment show, but it's still painfully evident on his boyish features.

"So I have work today so I'm gonna go get ready, you can stay if you want curly." Louis coughs, wiping his hands on his sweatpants as he stands. Harry doesn't say anything, but he nods at Louis' retreating back. His breakfast really doesn't seem that appetizing anymore. Louis spins around just as he's reaching the door of his bedroom, biting his lip.

"Hey, I really do mean it, yeah? I really enjoy your company, and we never finished Breaking Bad," He says.

"Okay Lou, um we can watch it after work if you want." Harry nods, trying to mask his hurt expression. Louis' fingers twitch at his sides. He hates how much he wants to kiss him and take back everything he's just said, but that's not really an option.

"Alrighty curly, I'm-I'm gonna go get ready," Louis states, giving Harry one more nod before going to get ready. Harry refuses to be bitter over this. He's sure Louis has his reasons, he's just a little confused, is all, because he thought they were doing good so far. He doesn't know if he did something wrong or if Louis is just being...Louis.

Either way, he decides not to stick around while Louis works, so he asks Louis for a ride home just as he's exiting the shower. And he doesn't stare at Louis naked wet body with only a towel low around his hips. (He does, but Louis can't exactly blame him. It's a bit weird, a bit different, because an hour ago Harry would have snogged him against the wall and licked the water from his collarbones, then proceeded to drop to his knees right there in the hall.)

But he _didn't_ , which, progress.

Louis drops him off at his flat on his way to work with an awkward hug and a pat on the back. Niall, god bless him, jumps on Harry the second he walks through the door.

"How's that hangover, mate?" He asks, snickering. "You were proper smashed. Did Lou Lou nurse you back to health?"

"No," Harry mutters, shrugging Niall off and trying to get to his room where he can sulky and whine to his mum's cat over Skype.

"What? Okay, you're sulking. What's up?" Niall asks, voice a little less brash. Albeit, not by much, he's still Irish.

"Nothing, I’m gonna go Skype Dusty." Harry sighs, moving to go around Niall.

"No, H, I know that face. Tell me what happened or I'm confiscating your dildo collection," Niall threatens.

"That's just mean." Harry pouts, sighing as Niall pushes him onto the couch.

"Please, Haz? I don't like seeing you all mopey, it's like...watching a puppy get rained on," Niall claims.

"It's nothing, just. Nothing. 's not important." Harry mumbles, grabbing the mail off the coffee table to distract himself.

"Fine," Niall snaps suddenly, pouting childishly. "I'm your best mate. Why can't you talk to me?"

"Because you were fucking right okay!" Harry practically screams, throwing his hands up in the air.

"What? Right about what?" Niall asks, tone immediately softening.

"About me always getting my heartbroken." Harry sighs, turning over a letter addressed to him.

"Hey, hey, Haz, what'd he do?" Niall says, clapping a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder.

"He said he just wants to be mates," Harry replies, ripping open the letter angrily.

"That horse-faced motherfucking piece of shit, I'm going to bust his fucking nose in," Niall bursts, face frozen in an expression of utter disbelief.

"Thanks, Ni, but I can't have you beat him up just 'cause he doesn't like me," Harry mutters, pulling the paper out of the envelope.

"The hell I can. You've been sleeping with him for like, two weeks, how can he dump you like that?" Niall argues.

"I don't know Ni," Harry sighs again, taking his first real look at the paper and gasping out loud.

"What? What's that?" Niall asks excitedly. Cue squirrel-like attention span.

"Fuck me," Harry whispers, reading over the fucking wedding invitation.

"Sorry, mate. I know you just got dumped, but I don't swing that way," Niall says solemnly, wincing when Harry glares. "Too soon?"

"Nick fucking Grimshaw is getting bloody _married_!" Harry exclaims, his eyes wide. Niall actually startles a bit at his loud tone, then seems to comprehend the reality of his words and goes bug-eyed. Harry dated Nick forever, off and on all through secondary, and then they became pretty solid after graduation for about two years, give or take. That is until Harry walked in on him blowing another guy in their bed, and then it was over for good, in fact, he hasn't seen or spoke to him since he gathered the last of his belongings from their old flat. That was years ago though, giving Nick just enough time to get a new boyfriend and get bloody engaged.

"It's in two months," Harry states offhandedly, turning the letter over idly in his hands. He never actually thought Nick would settle down, and though he's over him by now, it was still a messy breakup and the whole thing makes him a bit nauseous. And now he has to go to the wedding where Nick's family and all his friends are going to be an see what a single pathetic loser he is. He runs a tired hand over his face, attempting to smooth out his features.

"God," Harry mutters.

"Don't you need like, a date for a wedding?" Niall says after a few minutes of silence.

"Don't be stupid, Ni, you don't _have_ to bring a date," Harry snorts, but even he sounds doubtful in his own ears.

"You want me to go with you?" Niall asks, giving Harry a sympathetic look.

"No, s'fine, I'll- I'll go, it'll be okay," Harry mumbles, setting the invitation back on the table.

"I think I'm gonna go for a jog," Harry states, standing up and making his way to his room. Niall stares after him, and Harry hates the pity that's evident on his features.

Harry refuses to cry, but he /really/ liked Louis and now his most prominent ex is getting married and everything's just. Too much. So he runs. He runs around the block and then down the street and to the Eye and doesn't stop running till his body is burning with pain and his lungs can't suck in air fast enough.

He walks for a minute just to catch his breath, pulling his sweaty hair into a tiny ponytail. He doesn't really want his mind to catch up to him, but it does anyway. He feels like such a fuck up, Louis didn't even give him a reason why they have to stop. He just wants to know what he did to fuck it up.

He doesn't really know what he's doing when he picks up his pace again, stopping into a gas station for a water and two packets of chocolate candies, the ones he knows Louis likes. Louis offered to be friends; why shouldn't they be friends? They can totally be friends, they can hang out and not have sex or go out and pull other people.

They weren't dating in the first place. It was just sex, it shouldn't hurt this fucking much. Harry's not going to think about it too hard. He finds himself walking in the direction of Louis' flat, pretends he's surprised with himself even though he's been thinking about it for the past fifteen minutes. At least he has the excuse of them watching Breaking Bad, so he doesn't look like a loser when Louis opens the door with no shirt on and sex hair.

"Um. Hi," Harry greets, offering a small wave. He's suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious, all sweaty and out of breath with his running gear on.

"Hey curly, what's up?" Louis asks, leaning against the door frame with a smile.

"Am I - sorry, I don't mean to bother you, I just. I was a little upset this morning and I think I handled it badly? Like, I don't want you to think I'm cross with you. I'm not, and I respect what you said, I just thought I'd take you up on that mate thing?" Harry rushes out, breathing in deeply at the end of his speech.

Louis looks a little surprised by Harry's speech but quickly controls his features as he nods. "Yah, yah that sounds good."

Harry has to physically keep the relief from showing on his face, he was sure Louis would send him on his way with some half-arsed excuse.

"Okay, um, great. Are you busy then? Oh, hey Zayn," Harry greets as the dark-haired boy steps into his view. Zayn gives him an award-winning smile and slaps Louis arse playfully as he comes to stand next to the smaller boy.

"Hey Harry, what's up?"

"Shit, mate, I didn't know you'd be here; I only bought one extra candy, but you can have mine -"

"Don't worry your pretty little head, H. Not a sweets person," Zayn interrupts, winking before disappearing back around the corner.

"He lives off of fags and weed, he doesn't need sweets," Louis reassures him, looking like he wants to offer a fucking limb to the boy.

"Oh," Harry says lamely. "Okay, um, yeah, this is a bad time, so I'll just, here's your candy," Harry mutters, avoiding eye contact as he hands over the package.

"Are you sure? You can stay if you want." Louis offers, running a hand through his hair.

"No, it's fine, gotta make Ni dinner anyway. He's basically an invalid," Harry pauses to let out a small, forced laugh. "But text me, yeah?"

"Yah course," Louis promises, giving Harry a small smile as Zayn yells at him from the living room to grab the weed from his room. Harry stands there for another moment, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot before his brain catches up to him and he realizes he looks like an idiot.

"Well, I'll see yah," Harry waves, turning around and making his way away from Louis' door. He's not entirely sure what he was expecting out of that, but Louis answering the door freshly fucked by someone who was decidedly not him certainly wasn't on the list (though it really, probably should've been). He feels drained now like his body is being held underwater and he feels like complete shit and all he wants to do is go home and cry in bed. He doesn't really want to lower himself to that standard, but the release feels almost necessary. When he gets home Niall isn't there which makes Harry sigh in relief, he didn't want to have the blonde try and comfort him. He fixes himself a disgusting microwave dinner and plants himself in front of the telly and does his best to disregard the day's events.

*

"You're an idiot."

"Fuck off."

"Why would you fucking do that? Do you not enjoying being happy?"

"Shut the fuck up I hate you."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me. Do _you-God,_ he just shows up after you let me fuck you and you didn't even bother to fucking tell me. You're such a prick, honestly," Zayn rants, pacing the kitchen like he does when he either nervous or angry - Louis' gonna go with the latter.

"We weren't fucking dating, I can fuck whoever I want it's not my fault he just showed up here." Louis huffs, sitting on top of the counter.

"He brought you chocolate, Lou. You weren't just screwing him, I'm not stupid. You can't just dump someone like that, do you know what that does to people?" Zayn's speaking quieter now, but with the same level of frustration.

"This sounds awfully familiar doesn't it Zayn, let's go back to last year and have someone give you this speech you fucking hypocrite." Louis bites back, all the smaller boy's defenses going up.

"Louis, that is so fucking different and you know it. You didn't _want_ me, but that's not the point. Just - you can't carry someone home from a bar at three in the morning and then drop them when they're not only enamored with you, but also about five seconds from chucking up on your carpet because of their hangover. You don't get to do that," Zayn says.

"What the fuck am I meant to do? I don't want to fucking date him! I don't want to date you, I just want to fuck; why can't anyone fucking respect that?!" Louis shouts, sick of Zayn trying to control his life choices.

"I'm not saying you have to date him, Louis, I'm saying you can't treat him like shit just because he put up with you and your small penis for a few weeks. Apologize. Make good on your promise of being mates. And don't ever fucking shoot petty accusations at me just because you don't like to be wrong," Zayn finishes, picking his keys up from the counter and jingling them in the air. "Ta."

"My penis is not fucking small you fucking cunt!" Louis screams as Zayn makes his way out of the apartment. He doesn't notice his chest is heaving until Zayn's engine roars to life, and he can feel an impending migraine, and he's so fucking done. He grabs an unopened bottle of vodka and the half a bag of weed off the counter, grabs his phone and sends a text to his mate Stan to get his arse over here so they can get fucked. Stan won't judge him, Stan won't tell him what to do.

Stan responds within minutes, a simple 'YEEEEEEHHHHH' only, while Louis' waiting for him to drive over, it's a bit too quiet. He considers it a moment of weakness, and Zayn's intellect getting to his head. but he finds himself pulling his phone back out and sending one more text: _'gonna be hungover as fuck tmrw , bring breaking bad and I'll supply beer and crisps ???'_

Harry responds just after Stan walks in with a case of beer and a four-foot-tall bong. **'Sure I'll be over at 12'**

*

When Louis apologizes to Zayn, he's psyched himself up for nothing. Zayn just about cries just from Louis' admission of wrong, wrong for calling him a hypocrite and wrong for trying to blow off Harry without so much as an explanation. And like, Louis knows he's a prick. He knows. He even feels bad about it sometimes, and apologizing isn't something he does every day.

It feels nice because literally nothing in his life has ever been worse than being on bad terms with Zayn for an entire week, nothing. It feels nice because Harry had come around whenever he wasn't working and listened to Louis complain about his mate problems, binge-watched Breaking Bad, and never once made Louis feel bad about his decision. They're okay. It's been two weeks and they are practically inseparable, once they got past the awkwardness of not fucking anymore. It was weird at first, even for Louis, because ignoring the fact that you've had someone's cock in your mouth is truly a feat, but he's doing such a great job even Zayn approves.

Even now Harry and he are sitting together at Louis' watching the latest season of Breaking Bad without cuddling on the couch. Instead, he's got his illegal cat cocooned in his arms, but she jumps up and scatters off just as soon as someone starts banging incessantly on the door. Louis groans and drags himself off the couch and to the door, pulling open the door and almost being hit in the face when a strong fist goes to bang on the door again.

"Woah, er. Hey, Liam," Louis greets, doing his best to swallow the anxiety that's rising in his throat. It's now that he realizes he's been a bit ignorant to his original issues, in fact, the one that started this entire mess in the first place.

"Louis. I told you to get rid of the cat." Liam states, giving the shorter boy a look as he crosses his tree-trunk arms over his chest. Louis fakes a grin, leaning casually against the door frame.

"What are you on about, mate, I did, even paid your silly fine and everything," He lies easily. Liam isn't exactly stupid, but he is gullible, and Louis thinks he might have a shot at being believed just as he hears a loud, unmistakable mewl from somewhere distant, and Liam is pushing past him with a scowl.

"I'm searching. If I find a cat, you're out," He threatens. Liam does not find a cat. What Liam does find is a shirtless Harry Styles rolling around on the ground licking himself. Louis assesses the scene and blinks. Harry shoots him a look that says something along the lines of 'play along' while Liam is too shocked to be paying attention.

"Daddy, I can find my ears," Harry whines, sitting up on his knees and crawling over to Louis, nuzzling his face against the fabric of his sweats.

"Right," Louis breathes, dragging his gaze slowly to where Liam is standing, arms crossed and jaw tight. Louis hesitantly twists his fingers into Harry's hair, scratching to add to the ruse, but mostly just to control the subtle movements of his head. Instead of getting the hint and shying away, Harry starts purring. _Purring_.

"Um," Liam coughs, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation as Harry starts to meow softly and lick at Louis' hand. Louis clears his throat and digs his nails harder into Harry's scalp, which only seems to spur him on.

"See. No cat," Louis manages, voice admittedly a little more high pitched than normal.

"Can you get me my tail please daddy," Harry asks politely, making Liam's eyes bug out comically.

"I'd love to, just wait," Louis mutters, making Harry growl and bite his finger playfully. "Right, um. Liam, my good friend, if you're planning any more surprise check-ups, maybe...call? Bit busy."

"Um right, didn't mean to-I was-call. I'll call." Liam nods, giving Harry a wide-eyed look before booking it out of the flat.

As soon as the door slams shut, Harry collapses to the floor in a series of almost demonic giggles, Louis' hands very nearly shaking and his face beet red.

"What the fuck just happened?" Louis asks the giggling boy. Harry sits up, shoulders still shaking with silent laughter. "Don't think your landlord's coming back, mate," He says, grin wide.

"Yah guess not," Louis smiles, helping Harry off the ground. "Thanks, H,"

Harry definitely stares at his mouth much too long for it to be considered an accident, but after a moment he seems to recover and steps away. "Yeah, Lou, no problem," Harry says.

"So that was very confining, have you done it before?" Louis teases, settling back down onto the couch.

"Have you ever been to a sex club, Louis? You learn lots of tricks," Harry answers, winking as he collapses down next to him. Louis freezes for a moment, trying very very hard not to pop a boner thinking about Harry at a sex club, letting all these people play with him and touch him.

"I went once with my, um...'cause we'd been drinking and thought it'd be funny. Just watched, really," Harry elaborates when he notices the look of concentration on Louis' face.

"Is that how you got into the-the daddy thing?" Louis questions, waving his hand around. Harry shrugs, reaching for his cup on the side table and taking a long sip.

"Dunno. I was always kind of...interested. Just never really thought about it until recently," He says, avoiding eye contact.

"How many people have you," Louis asks slowly, hoping Harry will get the message.

"Just. A few. Hookups, mostly," Harry responds quietly.

"How many?" Louis pushes. He's just curious, it's an interesting topic and Louis is just curious. It's not like he's jealous that Harry has called other people daddy.

"I don't know. Four? Five, maybe," Harry answers, shrugging as he sips at his drink. Louis nods, his jaw popping as he sits back, picking up his own drink. Harry's quiet for the longest time, eyes downcast as he pretends to watch whatever's on the telly and swirls his drink with his finger. He looks soft and tired and it's kind of unnerving, honestly.

"Wanna go to the pub?" Louis asks, trying to defuse the growing tension. Harry looks like he might say no, but his face changes after a few seconds and he looks at Louis with a grin. "Sure, if you're buying."

"Only like me for my money, I knew it," Louis says with a smile, standing up from the couch.

Harry bites back the obvious comment and follows Louis into the kitchen, slipping on his shoes and jacket.

"Where we going?" Harry asks, Louis grabbing a joint from the counter.

"Surprise," Louis drawls, mentally running over a checklist: wallet, phone, keys, lighter.

"Fine," Harry states, stealing the joint from Louis and placing it between his own lips and grabbing the lighter from Louis' pocket.

"Hey. Aren't you supposed to be pure, or something?" Louis asks, realizing the fault in his question as soon as Harry cocks him the 'are you serious' eyebrow.

"Right," Louis nods, watching Harry light the end of the spliff and take a long drag.

"If you play nice we can even shotgun," Harry sings playfully as he swings open the door and heads for Louis' car.

"Christ," Louis mutters to himself, running a hand over his face before following after Harry.

*

The next time Louis sees Harry, he doesn't, at first. He's nothing short of stoned out of his mind, and the sun has barely risen. The dusk sky is ridiculously dim, and he can't be blamed, really, for forgetting to turn his headlights on when he literally spent fifteen minutes in the Tesco car park trying to take selfies with his steering wheel due to his current state. So it's dark, and Louis' high, and it takes a second for the figure sprawled against his garage door to register in his weed-addled brain. He stumbles out of the car, one of his shoes had fucked off a few hours ago and his shirt is slightly ripped from when Zayn had tried to kill a spider that was crawling on Louis which just ended in Zayn leaving about a bazillion hickeys on his neck and chest.

"I liked these shoes," He mumbles, words tumbling out of his mouth slow and thought out. The world does this thing when he turns his head away from a focal point, gets all blurry and stretched out until he finds something specific to rest his gaze on. That something is Harry, sat on the ground with his legs spread out in front of him, back against the garage and head lolling to the side.

"Hey, curly!" Louis yells, smiling wide as he plops down next to the boy. He grabs onto the boy's much larger hand, like its the size of the ocean, like all five of them.

"Hi, Lou. You almost ran me over," Harry points out unnecessarily, lazy grin stretching his lips. His voice is so deep, and _slow_ , it's like - waves, or something. Harry basically is the ocean. His hair is all curly too, and his eyes are like really really green.

"Why you all spread out on the pavement. Are you trying to get absorbed into the ground?" Louis asks, his eyes hooded as he waves his arms around.

"Was waiting for you. I'm sort of drunk," Harry says, blinking slowly before dropping his head on Louis' shoulder.

"Well I'm sort of high, we must be soul mates." Louis states, nodding at his own conclusion. Harry giggles, lifting his head and pulling his knees into his chest.

"D'you wanna go inside and lie down? I-I had a question," he says.

"Sure curly let's go," Louis nods, trying to stand up and failing. It's like his legs aren't even attached to his body. Harry must not be too bad, because he stands no problem, give or take a little stumble, and offers Louis his hand. Louis takes it gratefully, not sure why his legs decided to fuck off like that on him. He gives Harry a big, wet kiss on the cheek in thanks as they make their way inside. Louis is truly fucked. His eyes droop and when he reaches for the door handle his hand passes through it like air, and then he realizes that it's the _other_ door handle, and then he just stares at his fingers for a few seconds because he definitely only remembers one door handle.

"Here," Harry mutters, grabbing onto both door handles and swinging open the door.

"Are you a wizard?" Louis asks seriously, squinting his eyes up up up at Harry. _God,_ he's like thirty feet tall.

Harry cackles, so loud it shocks Louis' senses and he nearly trips over a toy mouse lying on his kitchen floor. "Like Harry Potter. Except not," He snickers drunkenly.

"Want some chirps, I'm fuckin' starving." Louis groans, stumbling over to the many packages of half-eaten bags on the counter.

"I'm okay," Harry says, watching Louis as he rips open a new package. Louis feels his gaze and side-eyes him carefully, so careful, in fact, that Louis misses the bowl he's attempting to pour the crisps in and upends the entire bag on the floor. Louis stares at the floor for a solid minute, turning the bowl over six times before deciding that the bowl must have an invisible hole in the bottom.

He shrugs and collapses on the floor, picking up crisps and munching idly. He can't really taste them but they taste so bloody amazing he can't find it in himself to stop eating them.

"H, H, you got try these." Louis insists, waving the hand full of chirps around for Harry to take.

"Louis. I know what regular potato crisps taste like," Harry says, but he sits down next to Louis and nips one out of his hand with his teeth just to humor him.

"But these are better, like they just, your hair is so _curly,_ " Louis replies, giggling like a schoolgirl at the end.

He reaches out to pet it, and Harry nuzzles into the touch. It's dark in the kitchen, but Louis' blood is running like syrup and he hasn't the energy to stand and turn on the overhead light.

"What did you want to ask me?" Louis asks, slightly remembering why Harry was here in the first place.

"Oh. Um...I just - it's totally mental. I'll ask when you've sobered up a bit, yeah?" Harry says, then proceeds to shrug off his jacket _and_ his t-shirt. "Bit warm."

"Take off your pants too," Louis shrugs, trying to pull off his own shirt because it is hot. Like the North Pole hot.

"Already planning on it," Harry smirks, kicking his trousers off his legs until he's left in only his briefs. So Harry Styles is mostly naked in his kitchen, sitting in crisp crumbs. Nice.

"We-we should cuddle and lay in bed." Louis slurs, his cheeks stuffed full with crisps.

Harry shrugs. "Okay," he agrees. Louis narrows his eyes, then turns his head towards the hall. It stretches on for bloody ever, he doesn't remember it being so long, and also he has to piss. He tells Harry as much and ducks into the bathroom to relieve himself. Harry's already tucked under the sheets when Louis stumbles in, his face illuminated by minimal light from his phone. Louis sort of spaces in the doorway, blinking at him like an idiot.

"You coming?" Harry asks, his voice raspy and deep. Louis thinks he should bottle the boy's voice up and sell it.

He cocks a grin, muttering a cheeky, "Hopefully," and hurrying to the bed with a sudden burst of energy that's gone just about as quick as it had come.

"I'm knacked, night curly." Louis yawns, flinging his arm and leg over Harry, pulling him closer.

Harry makes a funny noise, like a squeak or something.

"You're touchy," He mutters but doesn't move away.

"You're the little spoon," Louis replies, giggling because Harry is at least as tall as the London Eye, if not more.

"I am. I am the little spoon," Harry agrees. His hair is in Louis' mouth, but his gums are so numb that he hardly notices.

"Sleepy curly," Louis mumbles, burying his face into Harry's neck further.

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, trying to even out his breathing. He feels Louis' hot breath on the back of his neck and his warm palm rests on his bare belly, so low it's making him twitch. Louis starts to nod off a few seconds later, the weed finally catching up to him completely. Harry waits until his breaths became shallow and even to extract himself, rolling to the other side of the bed. He kinda hates Louis for making him feel like this. But then again he only has himself to blame. He presses his palms to his eyelids, applying enough to pressure to be painful. He hadn't come nearly drunk enough, or prepared enough, for this weight to settle in his chest, and he hasn't even asked him yet. Then again, he didn't expect Louis to be blitzed halfway to Mars, either. It's fucking five in the morning and he's already having a crisis over his pathetic life. He curses, kicking the sheets off his body. He's too hot, anyway. He's still a bit woozy from all the jello shots Niall dumped down his throat hours earlier, but at the same time, he couldn't be more aware of Louis a few feet away from him. He drags himself off the bed to grab a bottle of water from Louis' fridge and chug half of it down, trying to clear his head. He brings the rest back to bed, not feeling the least bit sleepy, but his body is sore with exhaustion. Louis has turned over onto his belly, snoring softly into the pillow. Harry silently climbs into the bed and slips under the covers, sighing to himself.

"Curly, you - c' mere," Louis mutters, making Harry start.

"What Lou?" Harry asks quietly, leaning into the boy. Louis giggles sleepily and pokes his tongue out, his fringe a mess on his forehead.

"You're a minx," Harry states disgustingly fond, brush Louis' hair back out of the way.

"My fucking head is too heavy. I wanna - for fuck's sake, c' mere," Louis whines.

"Calm down love," Harry shushes, inching closer to Louis until there is only a hair of space between them.

"Hey, Haz?" Louis whispers, their faces so close his lips brush against Harry's as he speaks, making his stomach jump.

"Yah Lou?" Harry whispers back, swallowing audibly as he stares into Louis' eyes.

"Who's the big spoon when we're turned this way?" Louis asks, eyes wide and serious.

"Oh, neither of us? This is more like an entanglement." Harry responds, thinking about his answer for a moment.

"Spoons can't tangle, silly," Louis murmurs, and Harry's really not prepared for the soft press of his mouth that comes next.

He can't help it that he kisses back, he's a sucker for kisses and Louis’ kisses are like at the top of the list. They only break apart when Harry finally starts to listen to the voice in his head that sounds very Irish and disapproving. "Lou, um."

"Sorry. You smelled good," Louis whispers, grinning sheepishly in the dim light.

"Right," Harry whispers back, pulling away from Louis to put some space between them.

"Hey, hey, Curly, baby, don't be like that. It's - mates can kiss, it's okay," Louis slurs, pawing weakly at the sheets where Harry had been laying.

"Louis, I-you are the one who said we can't." Harry sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just - so high," Louis sighs. His eyes burn like hell, but he can't find it in him to close them. He just feels heavy, and he misses the warmth of Harry next to him just moments ago.

"And-and you're really really pretty," Louis huffs like Harry's attractiveness is a bad thing. Harry frowns, folding his fingers atop his belly.

"You keep playing with me, Lou," He mutters. "You - you can't say stuff like that and then reject me, you know."

"I know, I'm a shit person. But I can't date you. I'm not a good boyfriend, ask Zayn, I'm surprised we're still mates. I-I just-you're so _pretty_." Louis whines, kicking his legs around like a child.

"Can't kiss me, then," Harry says softly. He slides one hand down and finds Louis', squeezing gently for a moment before letting go.

"Sorry," Louis whispers, his voice hoarse, his eyes staring directly at Harry, making him hold back a shiver.

"We should sleep, still need to talk to you later," Harry suggests tugging the blankets up to his neck.

"Okay," Louis agrees quietly, turning over onto his stomach and burying his face into the pillow.

*

Things are appropriately awkward when they both wake up a few hours later. When Harry wanders into the kitchen at half twelve, Louis has this look on his face, like he wants to apologize but can't figure out if he should or not.

"You want some pancakes?" Harry asks, walking over to the cabinet to grab a box of mix, not sure if he wants Louis to apologize or not.

"I've eaten cereal, but. If you want to," He waves his hands to gesture 'have at it', then returns his gaze to the racecar magazine he's flipping through. Harry nods to himself and begins to mix everything together, grabbing a pan and spatula and turning the hot plate on. He tries not to read into the fact he knows Louis' kitchen better than Louis himself does.

"So, um. You said you wanted to ask something? Last night? Or did I dream that?" Louis asks, clearing his throat.

"No I did-I mean I do." Harry nods, rubbing his hands over his legs before he continues.

"So. Long story, but, my boyfriend - my ex-boyfriend - is getting married," He starts, risking a glance at Louis' face, which only reads confused. "We dated for probably, like, seven years. Not the whole time, we were always breaking up with each other, because we were like, teenagers, but after we graduated sixth form we sort of moved in together? Like, he was never there, but when he was we'd fuck and then go out to dinner together or something. Anyway, he cheated on me with some other bloke and now they're getting married." He takes a deep breath. Louis looks a bit bewildered, probably not expecting his life story, but the context was necessary.

"He invited me to the wedding and like-I'm a loser who doesn't have a date and Nick, my ex, is like. The first person I had you know, the daddy thing, and I. I don't want to go alone or with Niall so I was wondering if you maybe would pose as my boyfriend and go with me." Harry finishes, biting his lip as he takes in Louis' reaction. He's silent for the longest time, starting at the floor as he considers.

"I suppose I owe you quite a lot," Louis finally says, lifting his gaze to look Harry in the eye.

"So, um is that a yes?" Harry asks slowly, not wanting to push the boy.

"Yeah, I. I think I can do that," Louis answers.

"Are you sure? I know you-you're sure?" Harry rambles, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"I'm not too much of a git to at least pretend to be your boyfriend, idiot," Louis chuckles, punching Harry lightly in the arm.

"Right, awesome." Harry coughs. "Thanks, mate."

"I've never had a boyfriend. Like, I dated Zayn for about two weeks but all we did was have sex and smoke weed," Louis muses.

"Just like be yourself, and you know, kinda touchy-feely so still yourself." Harry shrugs, tugging at the curls at the back of his neck.

"Any chance of sex on the dance floor?" Louis jokes with a smirk, reaching out to poke Harry in the waist.

"Maybe, his grandpa has a thing for me." Harry states seriously, Louis raised an eyebrow at him.

"Mm," Louis hums, sipping at his tea. It's cold by now. "What about now?"

Harry isn't sure how to answer that to be completely honest. Yes, he would love to have sex with Louis, but he doesn't want all the stupid shit afterward about how they can't date.

"Right. Feelings, and all that," Louis mutters, getting up to restart the kettle.

"It was your call," Harry reminds, sitting down at the table with his pancakes.

"I know. I think I'm still a little high, also, I haven't been laid since Zayn and I fought," Louis explains.

"Right, I'm gonna get ready for work. I'll text you some details about the wedding." Harry tells, wanting to change the subject.

"Right, yeah, okay. Um, sorry for - just. Sorry," Louis stammers, busying himself with the pile of washing up in his sink. Harry doesn't reply, he doesn't want to make it worse. Instead, he leaves the room to go grab his keys and clothes from Louis' room. He hears a curse and a loud thud, then some more cursing, and he can't really help that it makes him feel a bit better knowing he's affecting Louis too. Harry steals a shirt of Louis' and puts on his jeans from yesterday, grabbing his keys and wallet and toeing on his shoes. Instead of heading straight out the front door like he wants to, he stops in the kitchen on his way out, finding Louis staring blankly at the running tap water. He would think he was still high if it wasn't for the way his body was tensed up.

"I'm leaving. Um, thanks for letting me stay," He says, mostly just to break the silence.

"Course no problem mate," Louis nods in response, giving Harry a small smile.

"Okay. Bye," Harry says, only he makes no move to leave.

Louis stares at Harry for a good minute before quickly and takes the three steps over to Harry, wrapping his arm around Harry's neck and pulling him down for a fast kiss. It barely lasts for a second, but Harry pulls back breathless anyway. He's a hair too close to going back in for more, but he stumbles backward over his own feet instead.

"Bye," He repeats, mind still reeling.

"Bye," Louis repeats softly, watching Harry stumble out of the room and to the door, giving him one last look before exiting the flat.

*

As most things are, laser tag is Niall's idea. He, Louis, Harry, Babs, and a couple of girls from her sorority that Louis doesn't really know had been sitting in a circle passing a bong for the better part of an hour, and Harry made an offhand, half-serious suggestion of going out, and now they're all stood outside the laser tag joint sharing a cigarette while they wait for Niall to buy their tickets (it was only fair to make him pay, and he was too high to argue).

When they get in they split into teams of four, Louis and Niall ending up on a team with Perrie and Jade. Louis' not sure if it's better or worse than Harry ends up opposite him, with Barbara and two girls he's learned are called Jesy and Leigh-Anne. They have an hour to play three rounds, all of them getting into their gear and walking off to their designated sides. Initially, Louis couldn't care less about the game, but he's always been a bit too competitive.

So he plays, and he plays dirty. He gets Jesy out in the first five minutes, scaring the shit out of her in the process. The opportunity to get Harry arises several times, as he's mostly just rolling on the floor giggling like an idiot and keeps spacing out to stare at the blacklights. Louis figures someone else will get him anyway, and also, he's not _that_ heartless.

They end up winning the first round, and Harry's team wins the second round. Harry's still shouting about victory halfway through the third, and Louis is sweaty and exhausted. He's on the verge of giving up and convincing Harry to snog him in a dark corner, but the members of the winning team get a free pint, so.

So he gets Barbara and Leigh-Anne out with the help of Perrie and mourns her death artfully, Niall taking out Jesy and Harry taking out Niall and Jade. So it's just the two of them, then. Of course Harry waits until Louis is weak to actually participate in the game and to just generally act like a menace.

"You're going down Tommo!" Harry shouts a crossed the room, Louis following his voice in hopes of finding him.

"If only!" Louis shouts back, cackling loudly at Harry's indignant squawk. Harry does a roll to avoid Louis' crazy attack, landing hard on his arse and whipping his gun around to aim at Harry. Harry's panting, hair sticking up in crazy disarray as he madly attempts to block all the targets on his vest with his arms while simultaneously aiming his gun. Louis ducks behind a wall, taking deep breaths as he thinks of the best way to attack.

"Two minutes, guys," Calls the worker running the show on the overhead speaker.

"Hear that, Lou?" Harry speaks out from God knows where. "Two minutes dead. Two minutes and it's all over."

"If I win curly, you're taking me out before this wedding and giving me a proper wine and dine," Louis yells out, checking over his gun before shooting over his shoulder and hearing the telltale sign of a vest getting hit.

"Motherfucking -," Harry calls out. Louis peeks around the wall he's hiding behind just in time to catch Harry having dramatically fallen to the floor, clutching his chest and making gurgling noises in the back of his throat. The buzzer for the end of the game goes off, the man running the game announcing the winning team, cheers erupting from Louis' teammates. Louis rolls his eyes and nudges Harry's limp body with his shoe until the boy cracks an eye open, lifting both middle fingers in front of his chest.

"Get up you loser." Louis chuckles, lending a hand down to help the other boy off the ground.

"Fuck you, mate. I think you cheated," Harry says, but accepts Louis' hands with a strong grasp.

"I did no such thing, Harold, I resent that accusation." Louis gasps, holding his free hand over his heart in mock shock. Harry doesn't let go even when he's up, a smile twisting at his lips. They begin to stroll toward the glowing red exit sign, spewing light banter at each other. Louis gets tackled by Niall and Perrie when they reach their friends, all of them screaming about the win. The losing team mopes in the corner, save for Harry, who joins the group hug despite his loss.

"Are we going to go drink or what?" Jesy calls out, taking off her gear already.

"Fuck yeah!" Niall shouts, throwing his arms in the air.

"I hate you for shooting me," Harry mutters, punching Louis in the arm, but his grin betrays his words.

"Liar." Louis fires back with a smirk, slapping Harry on the arse before running up to Niall and jumping on his back.

Harry falls back with Perrie and Leigh, both of them shooting him funny looks like they know something he doesn't.

"So. Tell us about _Louis_ ," Perrie says, waggling her eyebrows.

"Um, he's an arsehole. He likes his tea with a dash of cream, he's 5'9 but he's really only about 5'6. Oh, I don't really know what else to say." Harry says, scratching the back of his neck.

"Aw. You two are adorable together you know," Perrie coos, winking.

"Oh, well. We aren't actually," Harry coughs, shoving his hands in his pocket, his eyes trained on the ground.

"Well. You got me, then," Perrie says, surprise overtaking her soft features. Harry likes her well enough, only now he can't stop blushing like a teenager. At least now he can be sure they'll be believable at the wedding. They get to the club not long after that, Niall screaming the first round is on the losing team. The four of them split the cost of a round of shots, some electric green stuff that smells like apples but tastes so strongly of acid that Harry feels the buzz as soon as he's swallowed. Barbara informs everyone Niall will be paying the rest of the tab, making everyone in their party cheer. Most of the girls disappear to the dance floor immediately, but Harry sticks to the bar and orders a Sex on the Beach just for the hell of it. Niall and Barbara start to snog against the bar, making Louis' snort and wave down the bartender. Harry sips at his drink, staring down his nose at the neon pink straw. He hates that tonight Louis looks particularly good, jeans tight on his thighs, fringe in sweaty disarray and shirt cut low enough to show the inky scrawl across his chest.

He particularly doesn't like that he looks so good because that means other people are taking notice. Like a fit tall guy that comes up behind Louis and puts his hands on his hips and his mouth very very close to Louis' ear. It's even worse that Louis tolerates it, too drunk and probably too horny to push him away like he normally would. He lets the guy pay for his drink and press his front up against Louis' delicious bum and it's not _fair_.

Without really thinking about it, Harry scoots his bar stool, just a tad to the left, and lands a jealous palm up the side of Louis' shirt when the lad's not looking, feeling his hot skin under his hand. He sees Louis shiver under Harry's hand and bites his lip at the other boy, his eyes holding something Harry can't place.

Harry grins and drops his hand, returning his attention to his drink. The sight at his side is still unsettling, but he's pretty sure Louis doesn't want the guy enough to go home with him this early in the night. It's weird seeing someone manhandle Louis, he's usually the one calling the shots and ordering everyone around. After a few more vomit-inducing moments, Harry decides it's unhealthy for him to be watching and stands up in search of the toilet, only he spots first a familiar dark quiff pushing its way through the crowds.

"Hey mate," Zayn greets, pulling Harry in for a bro pal hug.

"Hi!" Harry greets excitedly. He hasn't seen Zayn in ages, in fact, the only times he's seen him at all since the threesome has been when he's leaving Louis' flat and Harry's arriving. Louis has like, a boy oy relay race going on. Ha.

"Where's Lou?" Zayn questions, scanning over the crowd.

"Oh, he's," Harry pauses to glance around, but the mass of people is too dense to see the bar from here. "Somewhere, letting some guy feel him up."

"Course, at the bar?" Zayn snorts, already heading in the direction of the bar. Harry following behind him. When Zayn finally catches sight of Louis the boy is smirking to himself as the guy behind him kisses up the side of his neck.

"It's okay, I think. He can - he can do what he wants," Harry notices he begins to slur a bit, and he's not sure who he's talking to, but he does know he left his drink at the bar, and that's no good.

"No he can't, that's how Louis ends up in jail." Zayn states, walking over to the pair and pulling Louis to his feet, the guy behind him protesting but Zayn doesn't pay him any mind. Instead, Zayn grabs Louis' face and pulls him in for a hard bruising kiss that no one was prepared for. Harry should probably be jealous, but he finds himself amused, amused that Zayn is keeping Louis away from that bloke and amused that said bloke stalks off with comical annoyance. When Zayn finally pulls back Louis has a dazed look on his face which makes Zayn chuckle. Harry cheers and whistles, spinning his body around in a stupid little dance just before he's affronted by an undeniable Irish shout.

"Aye, homos! This is me mate Liam we're gonna get him drunk and hopefully laid!" Niall yells, a huge grin plastered to his face.

Harry turns around, widens his eyes, then immediately spins back to face Louis and Zayn, all three of them exchanging a look. Louis looks like he wants to sink into the floor. Liam looks about two seconds from running out the door, the only thing keeping him in place being Niall's arm wrapped around his shoulder. Harry's drunk enough to bite the bullet, even though _he's_ the one that should be embarrassed, really, where are the balls in this place. He turns to Liam and holds out his hands, lazy grin on his lips.

"Nice to meet you, um, when I'm not on my knees," He says, and wow, that sounded wittier in his head. Liam looks like he might pass out while Niall burst into laughter, doubling over as he tries to breathe.

"Didn't know you swung that way Payno!" Niall laughs, wiping tears from his eyes as he stands back up.

"Not quite, Ni," Harry says, nodding his head subtly towards Louis and tossing Niall a wink.

"Oh god, with you two I don't want to know," Niall states, shaking his head and raising his hands up. Harry giggles and stumbles toward the bar for his drink, half-melted by now.

"Could go for another shot, I think," He says pointedly to no one in particular as he thumbs the sticky straw.

"I'm in," Zayn puts in, calling out to the bartender to get them all a round of shots.

"What'cha getting me, Z?" Harry asks, sliding up onto a barstool.

"Cherry bombs," Zayn replies, smirking as he leans casually against the bar.

"I want four," Harry demands, smiling at the bartender in thanks as she passes the tray of shots towards them.

"You gonna drink all those curly?" Louis asks, sliding in next to Zayn and letting the boy wrap an arm around his waist.

"Maybe. Usually, try to stay hydrated, you know, but tonight I'm getting fucked," Harry states enthusiastically, tipping back the first shot.

"Well if you wanted to get fucked-ow that hurt you prick!" Louis shouts, pouting at Zayn after he pinched his side. Harry lifts an eyebrow, not really too interested in what Louis was trying to say, doesn't care much, to be frank. An hour ago, maybe, but with alcohol flowing in his veins, Louis' sort of a distant thought. Hey, maybe he could even get someone to take him home. With how Zayn and Louis are being he doubts Zayn would do anything with him sadly, maybe he'll finish these shots and go dance, maybe find someone to grind on.

He throws back two more shots consecutively, wiping his mouth when he's finished. It gets him feeling dizzy immediately, the lights subsequently brighter. He stands up, only swaying a little, and stumbles his way to the dance floor, pushing himself to the middle of the floor. Babs finds him before he can get far, her hair somehow still neatly groomed despite all the sweaty bodies surrounding them. She grabs his shoulders, smile wide and dazzling.

"Oh, Hazzie, you're finally coming out to play! Speaking of which, three o'clock, tall handsome stranger. Just your type," She enthuses, winking. She’s not wrong, he's cute and even taller than Harry and from what he sees he has a very pretty face.

"Okay, okay, but...don't tell Louis, 'cause he might try to fuck it up. He's not fair, y'know. Actually. Tell him, tell him I - I went and sucked that guy off in the loo. No, don't, actually, he's a bit feisty..." Harry trails off, losing focus somewhere during his drunken ramble.

"Do you want to dance with Louis, babes?" Babs asks gently, her eyes kind and understanding.

"No, no, you got it wrong. I want - I think - he only pays attention to me when we're alone," Harry plugs his ears from the music. Someone shoves past him and nearly knocks him off balance, the shots settling in heavier now.

"How about you and I dance for a bit? Does that sound fun?" Babs suggests, rubbing Harry's arms as she steadies him. Harry cocks a lazy grin, nodding enthusiastically.

"You're so nice, Babs, I love you. No, seriously, I'm so glad you and Niall are together," He sighs, tugging her closer so she can hear him better over the music.

"Thanks, babes, love you too. I'll even grind on your arse, sorry it isn't going to feel like a cock but." Babs laughs, giving Harry a kiss on the cheek as he nods. Harry laughs loudly as they begin to move, just sort of gripping each other while jumping up and down to the beat of the remixed song that's playing. The other girls come to join them not soon after, all of them making a circle and dancing around together till a group of boys come up to join. Harry's having a grand time, all the lights and the sounds reverberating through his senses, intensifying his high. A pair of hands land on his shoulders from behind, and it takes a second to register the feeling of skin on skin. He turns around to see a boy with shaggy hair around the same height as him giving him a sexy smile, his hands going down to Harry's waist.

Harry grins, gradually breaking away from the group as he inches closer.

"Hi," Harry smiles, leaning in closer as they start to sway to the music.

"Hey," the boy says, same coy smile still stretched across his lips.

"You'd mind snogging a bit?" Harry asks bravely, the other boy's grin widening.

He doesn't care to know his name, doesn't care to know his bloody eye color, the lights too dim to tell. He just wants to kiss someone. So they kiss and it's nice. The boy knows what he's doing, making Harry tremble and ache for more. He lets his hands roam a little, above the belt but teasing nonetheless as he carves shapes into the boy's mouth with his tongue. The boy's hand starts to make its way to the back of Harry's jeans, long fingers sneaking past the fabric. Harry whimpers and drops his lips to his neck, tasting the salt on his skin as he presses their hips together.

"Wanna go to the loo?" The boy asks huskily, grunting softly when Harry bites playfully at his neck.

"Yeah, yeah, lemme just..." Harry breathes, eyes flitting around. Harry knows they're edging on indecent, and he doesn't want to stop, but the thought of being somewhere private is sort of daunting. He catches eyes with Zayn over Louis' shoulder, the two of them dancing together near the edge of the floor, Zayn nods and rolls his eyes fondly before spinning Louis around.

"Yeah, okay. Let's go," He slurs, loosening his grip on the boy's waist and stepping back to locate the loo. The boy grabs his hand and pulls him in the right direction, pushing through the crowd till they were inside the small room. There's a man washing his hands, but other than that it's empty. Harry waits for him to leave before ushering the boy into a stall and switching the lock shut behind them. The boy presses Harry up against the door, his mouth immediately finding Harry's in a hot wet kiss. They are barely five seconds into it before the bathroom door is being thrown open and someone is moaning loudly like a porn star and backing farther into the room.

"Jesus," The boy mutters, but Harry only shrugs and pulls him closer by the shoulders. He's taller, just by a tad, not significantly enough for it to be noticeable unless you're, you know.

"Please, fuck-fuck fuck me fuck me now need it right now." A voice that sounds a little too familiar moans, more pornographic sounds following. Harry narrows his eyes, knocking his head back against the stall. That dampens the mood a little.

"Lou," He calls out, the room spinning a bit more than it was just a second ago. " _Louis_ , could you keep it down, mate, you're killing it."

"I'm sorry Harold, am I really killing the mood? I bet you and whatever hipster trash you are pulling are _at least_ fifty percent harder from hearing me then you were with your childish snogging. Now if you don't mind I'd like to get my brains fucked out now." Louis huffs back, the other boy’s muffled laughter following, Harry will bet his left foot it's Zayn.

"I do mind, actually, but you're too fucking dense to see that, aren't you?" Harry spits back. He sort of forgot about the boy that's currently clinging to him, his brows furrowed, mouth quirked, and eyes sort of bewildered.

 _"I'm dense_ , please Harold, just because you can't find a good lay because you're in love with my arse isn't my fault. It's a curse really, even the best of men have fallen for it." Louis replies quickly, sighing dramatically at the end.

" _Excuse me_ , Louis, but how are you judging my ability to get laid when the only person you can convince to fuck you is your best mate? Mostly out of pity, too, because you're so wrapped up in your fucking fantasy that regular casual sex is a real, possible thing," Harry rants, and fuck it, and slides the lock to his stall open and steps out. Zayn has Louis up against the sink counter standing in between his parted legs, both of their hair assured and their lips red. Louis stares at Harry as he walks out, his eyes cold. Harry checks his own reflection, but he's so drunk he's not sure if he's imagining the flush spread over his skin. His own eyes are glassy and tired, hair a sweaty, curly mess.

"You're both idiots." Zayn finally speaks up, breaking the tense silence. Harry groans, dropping his head into his hands. At the moment, he just wants to go to bed, but the only person he wants to curl up with is currently burning holes into his skull, so.

"I'm gonna. Yah." The boy Harry was snogging coughs, pointing at the door before making his exit.

"Least mine sticks around," Louis sniffs pointedly after the door swings shut.

"Yeah, no," Zayn snorts, patting Louis' thighs before stepping back, waving, and pushing open the door.

"I hate you!" Louis shouts at his back, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing in annoyance.

"I should've asked Zayn to be my fake boyfriend, you know," Harry finally sighs after a long moment of tense silence.

"Yeah? Let me go get him for you, maybe he can fuck you too and I'll fucking go find some other guy to have a mealiness fuck with. Maybe you and Zayn should just date for real!" Louis suggests, hopping down from the counter to get in Harry's face. Which is comical since he has to stand on his tiptoes to even get his face anywhere near Harry's.

Harry rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, tipping his head toward the ceiling. There's yellow water stains splattered all over; it's oddly calming. "Yeah, well. You know why I didn't?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Why?" Louis asks, cocking his hip to the side.

"Because I wanted to go with you, that's why, you fucking git," Harry answers, poking Louis rather harshly in the ribs.

"Can we just, not? Like all this stupidness is exhausting." Louis sighs, his whole body deflating.

"Can we not what?" Harry asks, resisting the urge to pull Louis into his chest. Now that he's given up his defensive stance, he just looks tired.

"Fight? Act like idiots?" Louis shrugs, leaning back against the wall.

"Yeah, course," Harry responds quietly. He leans against the sink counter, smirking. "For the record, though, I do love your arse."

Louis rolls his eyes and returns the smirk.

"Who doesn't."

*

Needless to say, when they go back into the club, they get fucked, this time sticking close together you know like mates do. Niall, Zayn, and Liam do three more rounds of shots with them, starting with vodka and ending in tequila. Louis' a clingy drunk, keeps hanging off of Harry, Zayn, Niall, and even Liam, who's actually chilled out after they got a few drinks in them. The girls fucked off to dance and snog a few boys, saying it wasn't fair that they were all gay and so attractive. Well, actually, Harry and Louis are the only ones who are gay. Zayn dates whoever he finds attractive, no one's interested in Niall, and Liam probably has never kissed anyone in his life.

They all dance for a bit, which ends up with Niall failing to do the worm and Liam showing off his own moves which wow. Okay. Harry's giggling uncontrollably, dipping his head into Louis' shoulder, feeling his skin under his cheek where his shirt collar has fallen aside. They do another round or four of shots before Barbara comes over and tells Niall she wants to go home, Louis gags at what that actually means which only makes Harry giggle more. He smacks a playful kiss to Louis' shoulder and straightens up. "We should go, too, I'm sick of this place," He slurs.

"Alright, you staying at mine?" Louis questions, taking one last drink of his rum and coke.

"Yeah, if I don't I'll probably crash in the lift," Harry responds, and he's about to turn around when he's interrupted. "Hey, lads, lads, wh-where're you going?" a very drunk Liam asks, hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Back to Louis'," Harry informs, giggling in between words.

He expects Liam to be fazed, embarrassed even, but instead, he only lights up. "Brilliant. Well, hey, I was just gonna ask. I know this club a few streets up, a bit more VIP. Would you wanna hit that one up with me, party a little longer?" He slurs drunkenly. Right, so Liam's a bit of a party animal. Harry looks over to Louis and raises his eyebrows at the boy. Louis shrugs and makes a cute face.

"Sure why the hell not,"

So they leave, with Liam of all people, and the air outside is frigid. It turns out he's too drunk to navigate, but he tells them the name of the place, so Harry figures they can get a cab ride up. They all pile in the back seat, telling the driver where they wished to go. Liam's in the middle, slinging a lazy arm around both of their shoulders. "You guys are so awesome," he slurs, resting his head on the back of the seat. He makes a few more happy sounds and tells them again how awesome they are before dozing off.

"Um. Lou," Harry says, shaking Liam's deadweight arm gently.

"Hey, bro. Liam." Louis says, pushing at Liam's tree trunk arm. Liam's head droops forward, a line of drool coming from his mouth. Harry looks to Louis, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. "He's gone," he sighs.

"What are we gonna do with him?" Louis asks, poking the sleeping boy in the face with his finger.

"You can't keep him in here. Too many lads puking on me seats," The cabbie calls from upfront, his Scottish accent heavy and gruff.

"Do you know his address?" Harry questions Louis, he knows Liam doesn't live at the complex.

"Shit, fuck. Um, his address is on my lease document, I think - I might have a photo of it," Louis scrambles, digging for his phone. Louis scrolls for a few minutes until he gives a triumphant 'ah-ha!' And railing off the address to the cabbie.

"Thank god, I didn't fancy pretending to be daddy's little kitten again if he wakes up with your illegal cat purring on his face," Harry mutters.

"I still can't believe you did that." Louis chuckles, Liam's head falling down into Louis' lap.

"Believe it. I right saved your arse, and you have the nerve to sabotage my seedy club blowjobs," Harry chuckles. The cabbie coughs, Louis and Harry both ignoring him and continues their conversation.

"I didn't sabotage shit, Curly, I was just about to be fucked and you happened to be there," Louis retorts, but this time it's just banter, no bite in his tone like there had been in the club.

"Not like you don't get fucked every day." Harry scoffs, the driver pulling up to the curb.

"We're here, kids," He announces much louder than necessary, making both of them snap their heads toward him. Harry pays him as Louis tries to drag Liam's dead weight out of the car. Tries.

"Thanks, mate," Harry says to the driver as he clambers out to assist Louis, lifting Liam's body up and over his shoulder with practiced ease. Back before he dropped out of uni he worked in a garden center and lifted eighty-pound bags of dirt for a living, what can he say. Louis looks kind of turned on and shocked and Harry thinks it's kind of a hot look on him.

"To think I was the one holding _you_ down," He mutters, seemingly more to himself than to anyone else.

"You're talking to yourself again love." Harry sing songs, opening the complex front door.

"Shut the fuck up and at least let me hold the door open, you bastard, making me look incompetent," Louis grumbles.

"Only because you are," Harry states, giving Louis a cheeky look as he grumbles and holds the door.

"I'm flattered," Louis deadpans, considering knocking Harry on his arse once he starts climbing the stairs, but he doesn't exactly need _two_ unconscious people to handle. They make it up to the floor that they assume is Liam's and Louis goes to the third door on the right with what he thinks is Liam's flat.

"Is it unlocked?" Harry asks from behind him, swaying a bit. He's still rather smashed, Louis remembers, figuring he should probably get Liam situated before he trips and drops him over the railing.

"Yeah," Louis nods, twisting the knob and pushing open the door.

They're met with neon lights. Neon lights and lots and lots of sound, and upon opening the door something colored fluorescent pink lands on Louis' cheek. He blinks, slowly turning his head toward Harry, who looks equally as shocked. They walk farther into the room, met with people dancing and drinking, a few people on the couches in the corner doing more illegal things. The door slams shut behind them, startling the both of them, but hardly anyone turns their head.

"Hey, is that Chinese takeaway guy?" Someone calls.

"Um, no. Does Liam live here?" Louis calls back out, trying to find the source of the voice.

"I don't know anyone called Liam. You want some acid?" The voice returns, face behind it popping out from behind a wall. It's a boy, Louis thinks, covered head to toe in neon paint.

"Yah sure." Louis nods, his eyes wide as the boy comes closer and Louis realizes he's not wearing anything but the paint.

" _Louis_ ," Harry hisses from behind him, Liam's upper body dangling off his shoulder.

"Right um, is it alright if my friend sleeps this off really quick, he's just a bit tired," Louis says, pointing his thumb at Liam.

The boy peeks around Louis, his eyes flitting briefly up and down the length of Harry's body. "Looks pretty awake to me," He says. Louis rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

"The one over his shoulder," Louis huffs.

" _Oh,_ right. Well, I haven't any clue what rooms are occupied, but feel free to have a lookie," He offers, decidedly unhelpfully, then someone sprays him with glittery paint and he's gone. They make their way further into the party, moving out of the way for four different couples making out or just getting off. All of which happen to be gay.

"Did we really walk into a gay rave?" Louis asks in disbelief.

"We definitely did," Harry answers, having to shout to be heard over the music and laughter. He shoulders his way through the crowd, everyone either too high or too drunk or too occupied to mind his pushiness. They find an empty bedroom after about three tries, laying Liam down on the bed and tucking him in on his side.

"So what, we just leave him here while we go get off our faces?" Harry asks. Louis shrugs, stripping off his shirt and heading to the door.

"What else are we meant to do?"

Harry looks at him for a second, then looks at Liam, unsure. Louis sighs at his hesitance, waving toward the door. "You can stay in here and hold his hand for all I care, but I'm not passing up free drugs," He says.

"Fine, God." Harry exhales, following after Louis.

"Wait, take some clothes off, I wanna find the paint," Louis enthuses. Harry rolls his eyes and strips off his own shirt, throwing it to the corner of the room.

"I swear to god if you leave me alone in here," He mutters, placing a light hand on the small of Louis' back as they exit back into the party.

"Shut up and find paint." Louis chirps happily, skipping farther into the room.

"Found some," Harry says, pointing at the carpet. It's literally everywhere if Louis wants to get painted he could probably roll on the floor. And he does, drops down and just rolls around on the floor till he's covered in it.

Harry squawks when Louis crowds into his space and starts rubbing it on him, smearing neon colors all over his chest and stomach. He puts handprints of Harry's arse and rubbing it into his hair and over his face fast.

"Oh, _fuck_ you," Harry giggles, stumbling further into him. "Gonna be washing this out for a week."

"Sucks almost as much as you do curly," Louis responds cheekily, wagging his eyebrows before he darts over to the couch where people are doing lines of coke and popping LSD.

"Oh my god," Harry grumbles, following after him hastily. He makes the quick decision to cut himself off for the night, to at least make sure Louis gets home alive, but that's thrown out the window the minute someone slips a bubblegum pink pill into his hand. Louis gives him a blinding smile, popping his own pill into his mouth and nodding at Harry to do the same. Harry returns the grin and drops the pill onto his tongue, swallowing dryly, and after that, things get very, very hazy. Colors start to dance behind his eyelids whenever he blinks, getting more vibrant after they do a few lines and drink a bottle of tequila between the two of them.

Harry's not aware of much, but there's dancing, lots of dancing, and Louis looks so, so bright in front of him, the colors seeming to swim on his skin. He's really hot but it doesn't really bother him, to busy keeping his eyes on Louis.

"Paint, more paint!" Louis shouts in his ear at one point, the words all stilted and echo-y, like he's speaking from underwater. Harry sort of gets the paint thing now, all the neon colors are, for lack of a better word, trippy as all fuck. One of the boys on the couch throws a few bottles towards them, all different colors and it's all so pretty. Louis shoves off his jeans, and he probably won't ever see those again, but now he's left only in his briefs and it's more gorgeous than any of the colors in the world.

"Paint me!" He shouts at Harry, cackling loudly as he lays himself out on the couch, over the laps of several people.

"Can I do a line off you?" A girl with red and blue spiked hair asks Louis as Harry starts to drizzle paint over Louis' legs and torso.

"Shh, Michael - Michelangelo never had people doing coke on his ceilings, or whatever. He's my ceiling," Harry hushes, but Louis nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah, like do it somewhere cool, like like my eye or-oh oh- my dick or my-Hazza that tickles," Louis squeals, kicking his legs out at Harry.

"Wait, that reminds me," Harry says excitedly, picking up a bottle of blue paint and drawing a very lopsided heart around the slight bulge in Louis' briefs.

"Why'd you do that?" Louis slurs, the girl getting down onto her knees and pouring a good amount of coke onto Louis' chest.

Harry shrugs. "I - I want to go swimming," He says, dumping the paint bottles to the floor and completely forgetting the topic at hand.

"The paint will wash off!" Louis whines, the girl carding three lines on Louis.

Realistically, they could swim and then repaint themselves, but, well. Unfortunately, when you're high out of your mind on heavy recreational drugs, realism isn't a thing, so Harry shrugs and lets it go.

"We-we should fill a pool, with alcohol!" Louis suggests, giggling when the girl does the first two lines. Harry giggles.

"I bet sex would be awesome right now," He muses, mostly to himself, but earns a few looks from the boys close to him. Two out of three of them raise their hands in offer, making Louis huff in protest.

"I'm kidding," Harry says, but he wasn't, really. Only, he forgets about it after a minute, as he tends to when he's like this. The girl does the last line sloppy before sitting back on her legs, a look of bliss on her face. Louis sits up and grabs a pink bottle of paint, uncapping it and spraying it at Harry.

Harry closes his eyes and laughs loud, his features scrunching up comically. His skin tickles everywhere, lights swimming behind his eyelids and he feels like someone's pushing on his forearms, even though no one is. It's blissful, is what it is, even though the base of his skull is a bit heavy and throbbing.

"We-lets go get something to eat," Harry suggest, making several people cheer in agreement. He's feeling energetic suddenly, and he drags Louis to his feet even though he's looking a bit worse for wear, clearly blown out of his mind. Harry may be fucked up, presently, but Louis definitely did at least twice as much as him. It shows to by the way he can barely stand on his own and is petting an invisible cat that's apparently five feet tall.

"It's so bloody hot," Harry complains, skin itching. The lights are blinding, and he doesn't even know where they're coming from, all colorful and distorted like heat waves.

"Let's go sit in the freezer." Louis proclaims, jumping up and down like a child.

"Brilliant. I don't know where the freezer is, though," Harry says, the room suddenly doing a full 360. Harry blinks it away, energy packing his veins so tightly he's afraid he might explode if he doesn't run, or something.

"I'm sure it's somewhere, let's-let's go on an advantage!" Louis screams in Harry's ear, his eyes filled with delight. Harry lights up, gripping Louis' arm hard with trembling fingers.

"Yeah, yeah, find the freezer," He slurs. Louis' got suns in his eyes and stars dancing around his head. He's an actual angel. He grabs Harry by the waist and tugs him close, and they're off.

*

When Harry wakes up he has a pounding headache, paint on every part of his body and someone pressed up against him and no idea where the fuck he is.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, buggering _fuck_ ," He hisses. He can't help but say it, _everything_ hurts and he can't recall a single thing that happened after they left the club, and even that's a bit hazy. Let alone decipher where in the bloody hell he is. He barely recognizes Louis, who is also covered in paint and has a women's blond curly-haired wig on.

"Shit. Lou. Louis. _Louis_ , fucking wake up," He groans, shoving weakly at his limp body weight. He's warm against him, and all Harry wants to do is curl around him and sleep off this god awful backlash, but he won't do that here, in this bed that smells like sterile sheets and sickening perfume.

"Fuck off," Louis moans into the pillow, rolling onto his side.

"No. Where the fuck are we?" Harry hisses, digging a nail in between Louis' shoulder blades. Louis whines and kicks his foot at Harry's leg, Harry grabbing his arms and flipping him over. That makes him open his eyes, just barely slits, but it's something.

"Louis. I'm all sticky and heavy and I've never felt so awful in my life and we need to leave. Now," Harry says, eyes pleading. Louis lifts his head, pushing a few curls out of his face and sitting up to survey their surroundings. Harry's sort of freaking out. They could've backpacked across the bloody UK for all he knows, and Louis doesn't look concerned at all.

"Did you do my hair?" Louis asks, fingering a golden lock with a thoughtful look. Harry groans, rolling off of him and setting his feet on the ground.

"You're so fucking useless, I can't believe I - " He stops short when he makes eye contact with someone standing in the doorway.

"Shit, um hi?" Harry says awkwardly, waving half-heartedly.

It's most definitely a man, tall and broad, but he's dressed in a silk robe, with highlighted long hair that curls around their shoulders, a shitload of contour, and dark red, perfectly outlined lips. They fucking slept with a drag queen and Harry can't remember a thing. He's a horrible excuse for a homosexual man. This was like the third highest thing on his bucket list and he has failed himself and God.

"Louis," He whimpers helplessly, lacking in things to say or do. When he twists his head back around he sees that Louis has returned to a restless slumber, his arm slung over his eyes to keep the light out. Harry makes a frustrated sound and pushes Louis off the bed, making his limbs flares around as he lands straight on his arse.

"Fucking what the fuck," Louis spits from the floor, but his eyes are wide open for the first time since Harry woke up.

"Oh, you're up, good." Harry nods, making Louis scowl and stand up, flipping his false hair over his shoulder, complete composed standing stark naked in a random drag queen's bedroom.

"You boys up for tea?" They speak up, flicking at their nails almost uninterestedly as they speak.

"Yeah that sounds great," Louis says brightly, far too awake and happy for someone who did as many drugs as he did last night. Harry's surprised he's still alive, to be honest. He, on the other hand, feels like shit. His head is pounding and there's a strange weight in his chest, and all he can recall is color.

Louis drags him up and off the bed without considering any of this and follows the drag queen to the kitchen. Harry claws at Louis' fingers wrapped tight around his wrist, attempting to make him stop so they can talk, or something; he just needs to convince him to leave. He's not sure if he's still high (probably) but the weight in his chest has somewhat transformed into a panic.

Louis won't hear any of it or let go of Harry, pushing him down to sit at the table as he makes conversation with the drag queen. His hand finds Harry's thigh under the table like he's anchoring him down to prevent him from running, and instead of being strangely turned on like usual, Harry's annoyed. He just wants to go home and sleep for the next twelve days and never get up again.

He sips at his tea, only to be polite, and doesn't make eye contact with Louis when he shoves his hand away with more force than necessary. The drag queen tells them they met her at the strip club they work for, rambling on about finding a freezer only in their briefs. Harry does vaguely remember something about a freezer now that it's mentioned, remembers shivering and giggling and pretending to get his tongue stuck to the icy walls.

"How'd we get here?" Louis questions, sipping on his tea and twirling a blonde lock of hair around his finger.

"Oh, honey, I don't know. I got smashed, too. I don't even know whose flat this is," The drag queen answers. Harry and Louis' heads both snap up at that, wide eyes and mouth open.

"This isn't your house?" Harry hisses. The drag queen stared at them for a moment, then scoffs.

"Of course not, the decor is from the bloody eighteenth century," They snort.

"What the fuck are we doing here then!" Harry shouts, waving his hands around crazily. It's the first time all morning that Louis has looked anywhere close to on the same page as him, and with one last swallow of his tea he mutters a 'cheers' and tugs Harry up by the arm. They run to the bedroom in hopes of finding some clothes of their own, but of course, there isn't so they have to steal some from the closet. Which is when they find out that this is in fact a woman's house considering all that's is in the closet is dresses and skirts. Harry doesn't even blink before tugging a long black skirt and striped top, pulling on the clothes quickly, pleased to find they actually fit rather well. Louis, the bastard, takes his time in picking an outfit, flicking through the clothes with a thoughtful look.

"Fuck's sake, Louis, we're in a house with Jame fucking Gumb and you're worried about your outfit?" Harry hisses.

"If I'm going to wear a dress I'm going to look good Harold." Louis huffs, grabbing a sparkly pink dress and demanding Harry help him get it on without taking the wig off. Harry huffs and is exaggeratedly careful when pulling the collar over Louis' head. Louis grabs a pair of flats and slips them onto his feet, throwing a pair of flip flops to Harry before he fixes his wig and does a little twirl.

"I see the appeal," Louis mutters, looking at his arse in the mirror.

"Let's _go_ ," Harry sighs, gripping Louis' fingers tight and dragging him toward the bedroom door. The drag queen is laying on the bed flicking through their phone, looking up when they tumble out of the closet.

"Nice."

Louis offers a small wave. "Lovely tea," He says, then drags Harry out of the room like a doll in search of the front door. They exit the building and are met with the bloody Eiffel Tower standing a few hundred yards away.

"Oh, that's fucking _rich_ ," Harry groans, pressing his fists hard into his eye sockets. There's a bench on the corner, and he wants to curl up and sleep on it.

"Wanna spend the day in Paris?" Louis asks, shrugging his shoulders.

"No, I want to go home," Harry pouts childishly. "When's the next train back to London, you think?"

"I don't know what happened to my phone, I don't even know what time it is," Louis states, starting a path down the sidewalk.

"Fuck, I don't have mine either. Do you happen to speak French?" Harry asks, and to his surprise, Louis nods.

"Bien sûr que je peux, putain d’abruti," Louis says in perfect French.

"Okay, how do you know how to speak French and what did you say?" Harry questions.

He's shocked, confused and a little turned on, and judging by the way Louis smirks at him, it shows.

"Come on curly, endroits à visiter et gens à baiser," Louis smiles, grabbing Harry's hand and dragging him along.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about. Can we leave, please? I miss my phone," Harry pleads.

"Shut up curly we've never been to Paris, it will be fun," Louis reassures, smiling wide as they pass an old couple walking.

"We're not exactly set for a day trip, Lou. We've got no phone, no money, no one knows where we are, and I feel like shit," Harry complains. He knows he's going to give in no matter how much he whines; Louis has that effect on him.

"We can go to the bank and grab some cash and go get something to eat and call Zayn or Niall to come get us," Louis replies, skipping crossed the street.

"Fine. But you owe me when we get back," Harry caves, hurrying to keep up with him. He's awfully energetic, Harry wonders if he did another line at some point when he wasn't looking. Louis rolls his eyes and continues walking, waving at just about everyone they see till they finally make it to the bank. Of course, they get funny looks from about every person inside the building, but Harry's shameless and Louis just doesn't give a fuck.

They go up to the teller and Louis gives her his name and address and tells her he would like to withdraw some money so they can get home. He puts on a whole unnecessary shitshow about how they were drugged and kidnapped by a drag queen and deserted in Paris with no clothes or money, which is essentially true, but Louis' always delving into the semantics of things. He has to repeat it all back to her in French when they realize she doesn't speak English. Though Louis does put on a show of fake crying and gaining her sympathy. She pats his shoulder and hands him an envelope with the money he requested, sending them off with an enthusiastic, "Merde!"

They high five when they get outside, Louis leading them to a small cafe a few blocks away.

"I'm going to need quality, expensive French pastries," Harry demands, picking up his skirt as they cross a small puddle.

"I think I have just the place." Louis smiles, leading Harry inside, the smell of fresh pastries and bread hitting their noses immediately.

"I used to work in a bakery, you know," Harry comments offhandedly as Louis drags him to the windows filled with delicious sweets ranging for scones to eclairs to truffles.

"I use to be a prostitute," Louis supplies, waving over a worker and demanding four eclairs and two scones for himself.

Harry orders some sort of cupcake thing because damn he's never craved frosting so much in his life until now.

"So you've said a few hundred times," Harry responds lightly.

"And a stripper," Louis adds, ordering a tea for both of them too.

"I _told_ you they were bringing the circus through this weekend," Harry hears from a woman behind him, her Welsh accent heavy. Louis must've heard too because he gets this evil smirk on his face and starts speaking in rapid-fire Arabic and okay. How?

"Okay. Louis, you're sort of freaking me out, so let's just eat, yeah?" Harry attempts, placing a hand between his shoulder blades and leading them to a table, Louis still muttering in a language that is decidedly not English. He thinks he hears a bit of German and Spanish and maybe even Dutch as they seat themselves and wait for their food.

"You're so fucking embarrassing. I'm seriously going to abandon you here," Harry grumbles, but he mostly feels like he's talking to himself or a brick wall at this point.

"Not my fault people are rude," Louis replies, his voice going up to make sure the lady heard him. Harry drops his head onto the table, hard enough to make the bundled silverware clatter. The rest of the day pans out similarly. Louis drags him into shops and puts on silly hats and frightens people on the streets. There are lots of bushes in France, Harry notices, but there's probably lots of bushes anywhere, he's just thinking about it too much because he'd very much like to hide behind them. When it gets to be around seven o'clock they find a woman who let them use their phone to call Niall to come pick them up.

"I am not bloody driving for ten plus hours to come get you twats," Is the first thing Niall says after Harry's made the request.

"It's only like, five hours." Harry tries to reason, but even he knows it's a lost cause.

"Both ways, Styles, and that's if there's no traffic. No fucking way," Niall says. Harry groans. He has no idea how they managed a five-hour ride across a sliver of the fucking ocean, and the aftermath is proving to be more of a headache than the actual hangover itself. Apparently they were MIA for two days, two days in which neither of them can recall and now they have to get back on a train to go home and Harry is never, ever doing drugs again. Well, not the hardcore kind at least. Harry spends ten minutes apologizing to Niall for running off and assuring him he's fine and promises never to do it again before finally hanging up.

"Looks like we're catching the train," He informs Louis, standing expectantly at his side.

"Fine but when we get home you are rubbing my feet." Louis huffs, Harry gives the phone back to the women and has Louis thank her for them.

"Only if we can cuddle on the way there. Also, I want McDonald's before we go. I hear they have mozzarella sticks here," Harry counters, flashing a hopeful grin.

"Fine but I want pancakes and a milkshake." Louis fires back, one of his dress sleeves falling down over his shoulder. Harry shrugs. "Your money. Hurry, though, trains leave at half eight," He says, only hesitating a second before lifting a hand and sliding the strap back into place. Louis freezes for a moment, looking very soft and cuddly right before he punches Harry in the dick.

"Shit, fuck you," Harry wheezes, keeling over. Louis' cackling maniacally and already running toward the McDonald's at the end of the block. Harry groans again before hobbling off after the boy. French McDonald's turns out to be a disappointment. No mozzarella sticks, after all, but Louis makes it up to him by letting him steal a whole pancake _and_ the cherry off his milkshake. They board a train to London an hour later, only three people comment on their attire so Harry thinks it's a win.

Louis makes good on his promise of cuddles, doesn't even accuse Harry of smothering him like usual. It's not very late, but Harry's exhausted anyway, and his eyes droop the second his head lands on Louis' shoulder. Louis pats him gently on the cheek a few times and leans back both their chairs so they can rest a little more comfortably. Harry hums and resists pressing his mouth to Louis' shoulder, listening to the train rumble underneath them as he dozes off.

*

Five hours, two shitty turkey sandwiches, and a crying child later, they are back in London and on their way to Harry's flat. Louis is asleep against the window of the cab they're in, his mouth open in a way that's sort of endearing. When they pull up to the flat Harry picks Louis up after he has paid the cabbie and walks him up to Harry's floor.

"Jesus, I can walk," He mumbles sleepily as Harry pushes open the door, but buries his face further into Harry's shoulder despite his protests.

"Shut up love," Harry says politely, making his way to his bedroom and gently laying Louis down onto the bed. He grumbles unintelligibly but Harry ignores it, digging around for a clean pair of pants and some old trackies, along with a t-shirt, then heads to the bathroom for a shower.

The water feels heavenly after the days he's had. Harry stays in the shower for about an hour just soaking in the heat and smell of his strawberry shampoo. When he finally gets out, skin pink and soft, he makes himself a tea and heads back to bed.

Louis is awake now, Harry's laptop in his lap as he probably looks up porn or is buying things with Harry's credit card. Harry has the overwhelming urge to knock it away and maybe go down on him, neon paint and all, and wow. He thought he abandoned these thoughts ages ago. He shakes his head and crawls into bed, snuggling under the covers and peaking over Louis' arm to see what he is doing. He's looking at shirtless photos of David Beckham, which was Harry's fourth guess.

"Are you wanking off right now under the blanket? Should I be concerned?" He snickers, nudging him in the arm.

"Fuck off Harold," Louis says happily, never taking his eyes off the screen as he scrolls further down.

"You should shower. Haven't seen your face proper in days. Also, you smell," Harry comments, feeling around for his phone before he realizes, of course, he doesn't have it.

"I don't wanna stand for that long," Louis whines, dropping his head down onto Harry's shoulder and giving him puppy dog eyes.

"What, stop looking at me like that. You owe me, remember?" Harry reminds, poking his cheek.

"I'll blow you if you wash my hair." Louis offers, ignoring Harry's comment.

"You can't say stuff like that," Harry mutters, drumming on his leg.

"Fine will you please wash me I'm lazy and will make you tea." Louis pleads, crawling all over Harry as he speaks.

"Better," Harry grins, peeling the blankets off of himself.

"Yay!" Louis shouts, wrapping himself around Harry so he doesn't have to walk. Harry tumbles to the bathroom with Louis clinging to his body, knocking the door open with his shoulder. He sat Louis on the counter and helped him remove the dress and wig before stripping off his own clothes and maneuvering Louis into the shower.

Louis yelps when Harry turns on the water and it takes a second to warm up, splashing cold drops at Harry as he pouts. Harry rolls his eyes and grabs the body soap and a luffa and starts laver Louis' body up to get the paint off him. Harry expects it to be awkward, because it's something they would've done before Louis broke things off between them, and they're always dancing around the subject, but to his surprise, it's not. It's nice, soothing even, to watch the colors run in neon rivulets down Louis' body and disappear down the drain. Louis lets him touch every part of him, washing away all the paint and dirt and a small layer of sparkles he didn't notice till now.

"There. Almost forgot what you looked like," Harry jokes when he's done, hooking the loofa back on the wall and reaching out for a towel.

"Are you saying you didn't like me as a woman?" Louis accuses, trying to hide his smile.

"I wear the skirts in this relationship, thank you," Harry chirps, dropping the towel over Louis' head. Louis makes a sound of protest, pulling the towel over his head and flinging it at Harry.

"What if I want to wear the skirt?"

"Do whatever you want, mate," Harry says, standing up from the edge of the tub and stumbling around for his discarded clothes. Louis doesn't bother with anything more than brief before he jumps back into bed and right back onto Harry's laptop. Harry believes there was tea somewhere in this deal, but he doesn't mention it, because Louis is warm beside him and he doesn't really fancy him being anywhere else. So they cuddle on the bed as Louis looks up shirtless celebrities and even goes as far as showing some pornographic pictures of lookalikes to Harry. When he finally shuts it Harry's close to falling asleep, but Louis shakes him awake rather rudely claiming he's bored and lonely.

"Go to sleep and you won't be," Harry mutters, closing his eyes again.

"When's this wedding?" Louis asks randomly,  
probably trying to rope Harry into shenanigans by asking pointless questions.

"Next week," Harry replies, batting away Louis' hand when he tries to poke Harry in the face.

"Don't you reckon we should practice, or something? Make it more believable?" He continues. Harry shoots him a funny look; literally everyone he's hung out with since he's met Louis thinks they're dating _without_ him saying it.

"Lou, everyone thinks we are dating." Harry points out. Louis narrows his eyes. "Who said that?" He inquires.

"Literally everyone I talk to." Harry snorts, pulling Louis down under his arm.

"I just think we should practice," Louis mutters defensively, fighting against Harry's hold just because he's a shit.

"Fine, what do you want to do?" Harry sighs, running a hand through Louis' damp hair.

That seems to stump him, his mouth opening and then closing like he can't think of anything to say. He doesn't move for a minute, just stares at Harry for a moment before leaning up and kissing Harry right on the mouth. Harry makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat, and he wonders why he didn't expect it, because what else could Louis have meant, really. Tentatively, he raises his hand and places his fingers lightly on Louis' jaw. Louis moves slowly as if to not scare Harry and break the kiss, straddling Harry gently and shifting his hands to Harry's hair.

Harry pretends this is okay, kissing back eagerly and trailing his fingers lightly up Louis' bareback, feeling goosebumps raise under the touch. Louis makes a happy sound when Harry's hand falls lower, cupping his bum in his huge hands. Harry presses in closer, trying his very best to keep his pent up desperation out of his kisses. Louis doesn't seem to mind if any of it does show, letting Harry open up his mouth and explore every inch of it. He starts to nip at Harry's bottom lip gently, then not so gently, deliciously harsh just the way Louis knows he likes it.

Harry's hands grip tighter on Louis' bum, pressing their clothed cocks together, rubbing just enough to drive Harry crazy. He's relieved to discover that Louis' equally as hard as him, just partially. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, because like, are they really doing this? They apparently are, and Louis has no intention of stopping anytime soon if the way he's grinding down on Harry is anything to say by it.

"Think we'll be convincing now, with all the practice?" Harry breathes when Louis breaks away to kiss down his jaw.

"No, think we need more." Louis pants, diving right back into it. Harry breathes out a little laugh and sinks down onto his back, dragging Louis down with him and settling their hips together properly.

"I think you need lots of practice, you're not making it very believable." Louis whispers, smiling cheekily down at Harry.

"I haven't a clue what you could mean by that," Harry argues, very deliberately rolling his hips up to meet Louis'.

"Course you don't Harold, you suck in bed." Louis snickers, Harry giving him a hard smack on the arse for the comment. He starts to say something else, but Harry shuts him up with a kiss, moving his lips slow and unhurriedly, digging his fingers into Louis' bum. Louis makes an offended sound for being shushed but it quickly turns into a moan as Harry bucks his hips up against Louis.

He clings to Harry's shoulders as he starts to move in earnest, pace graduating from lazy to quick and intense, like there's actually a goal to reach. The kiss is becoming sloppy and wet as they continue, Louis' biting more than he is kissing. Harry hooks a leg around one of Louis', desperately searching for more friction as he sucks Louis' tongue into his mouth and revels in the noises he's making above him.

"Fuck, Lou-shit." Harry curses, his hands running over every part of Louis he can touch.

"Yeah," Louis breathes, echoing his sentiment. Louis' made a lot of moves over the past few weeks, no matter how ridiculous, and Harry can't believe he's held off this long. He doesn't know where he found the willpower but it's breaking out of him like a flood. It's embarrassing how close he is already, and Louis is never going to let him live it down when he comes in his pants after three minutes like a teenager.

"Are you gonna come like a little boy now?" Louis asks, making Harry huff, he hates Louis sometimes.

"I hate you," He mutters, but the harshness is sort of negated by the way his voice cracks at the end, and the way he punctuates his claim with a breathless moan.

"Sure you do curly," Louis laughs gently, rocking harder in the taller boy's laps.

"I do," Harry protests, giggling a little before pressing his slick lips to Louis' throat, sucking a mark.

"Shut up Harold," Louis whispers against his neck, Harry feeling his smile.

"Gonna ruin my favorite sweats and it's all your fault," Harry continues, controlling the movements of their hips with his grip on Louis' arse.

"Your fault for wearing so many clothes," Louis grumbles, pulling on handfuls of Harry's hair.

"Fuck, do that again," Harry groans, breathing hotly against Louis' cheek.

"Like your hair pulled?" Louis asks, smirking as he gives a few harder pulls.

"Shut up, you know that," Harry breathes, tipping his head back and letting the heat course through him as it all builds up deep in his abdomen.

"Maybe I wanna hear you say it," Louis hums, Harry moving his head to bite at Louis' neck in payback.

"What will you give me?" Harry asks, letting out little moans between words.

"An orgasm," Louis replies dryly, tugging even harder on the boy's hair. Harry considers arguing, but he wouldn't put it past Louis to deny him and it's not actually that embarrassing considering the things he's said to Louis, so he just goes for it.

"I-I like it, please," Harry mutters softly, biting his lip and staring up at Louis with glazed eyes. Louis smirks and tugs again.

"I know," He says, the shit, grinding down with purpose as he continues to pull and press wet kisses down Harry's jaw. Harry whines, his blunt nails digging into Louis' lower back as he arches up into Louis' touch.

"Jesus, curly, first you're gonna mess your pants like a thirteen-year-old having his first snog, and now you're gonna take for-fucking-ever," Louis grumbles.

"I really hate you," Is what Harry responds with, dragging Louis down hard hard hard before he's coming fast and hard into his pants. He pants out curses as he comes, pulling Louis down roughly for a sorry excuse for a kiss that consists mostly of teeth and hot breath. Louis whimpers into it anyways, shoving a hand down his boxers and coming into his fist after only a few strokes. Harry lets out a shaky breath, carding his fingers through Louis' fringe and ignoring the stickiness in his pants. Louis sits up slightly, giving Harry a blinding smile before wiping his come covered hand all over Harry's face. Harry sputters and shoves him off, wiping at it with his t-shirt with one hand and flipping Louis the bird with the other. The smaller boy cackles as he rolls around on the bed laughing at Harry's essence as usual.

"I swear I'm going to stop indulging you. We're never practicing again. We'll be such a shit couple they'll give us an award," Harry mumbles, wiping the last bits from his eyes and then stripping his shirt over his head.

"Who fault is that?" Louis says pointy, giving Harry a look that says it's not Louis.

"Right. I'm going to change my pants now," Harry says, just in time for Niall to knock the door down.

"I thought you weren't fucking!" Niall groans as soon as he steps into the room.

"What? That's ridiculous, we're not, just -" Harry stammers, leaping up from the bed and rushing to his closet for new sweats and briefs.

"I hate both of you!" Harry yells, changing fast as they both laugh. He stumbles out of the closet with a flush high on his neck.

"We're not," He repeats, Niall still keeled over cackling wildly.

"Yah sure bro." Niall nods, wiping at his eyes as he stands back up.

"You know - why the fuck do I always have to be the brunt of everyone's jokes?" Harry snaps suddenly. He doesn't know why he feels like someone's hit a sore spot, it's just, they're _not_ and Louis won't and he's trying to accept it but the universe won't let him. His outburst sobers both of them up, Louis taking a step closer to Harry and raising a hand and outstretching it towards Harry.

"H. Hey. It's not - we're just messing around," He tries, his face softening.

"Yeah, and it always has to be at my expense doesn't it!" Harry laughs dryly, pulling away from Louis' hand.

"I seriously have no idea what you're on about," Louis says carefully. Niall whistles and starts backing out of the room, mumbling something about a menstrual cycle.

"Of course you fucking don't, can you-can you just go please?" Harry sighs, rubbing at his temple. Louis blinks, for once in his life at a loss for words. He looks slightly hurt, and Harry hates how _he_ feels bad for making him feel that way.

"I - Harry, what is this about Paris?" Is what he finally says once he finds his voice.

"No, I-I just need to be alone right now okay?" Harry responds, puffing out a long breath.

"Okay," Louis says slowly, breaking eye contact as he nods to himself. Harry watches as he grabs clothes that he had left behind on other occasions, pulling them on slowly and grabbing a pair of Harry's old shoes.

"Um. Text me when you feel better, yeah?" He says softly with his hand on the knob. Harry really needs him to leave before he cries or something makes a bigger scene than he already has.

"Don't have a phone," Harry gets out, trying not to let his voice betray him.

"Oh. Right. That's my fault too, innit," Louis mutters, offering a weak wave before disappearing and shutting the door behind him.

He hears him say something to Niall, hears the front door shut, and then it's just him alone with his pathetic thoughts. He groans loudly and grips his hair in fistfuls, hoping to rip it all out with no luck. God, why does he let Louis do this to him?

He strips the dirty sheets off his bed and collapses onto the bare mattress, biting harshly at his nails. He grabs the nearest pillow after he has bitten all of his nails to the skin and screams into it till he can't anymore. Once he's exhausted his body too much to do anything else, he rolls over onto belly and cries for the first time since any of this began.

*

The week prior to the wedding is filled with alcohol and Harry's body weight in weed trying not to cry his eyes out because he hadn't spoken with Louis the whole week. He's second-guessing everything the morning of, wondering if he should even bother making an appearance. He already RSVP'd, but he could always shoot Nick a Facebook message or something saying something came up.

He gets as far as opening the browser on his laptop before there's a loud knock on his door. He pushes himself up and makes his way to the door lazily, still coming down from his last high as he opens up the door. He flings the door open without checking through the peephole, blinking once he sees who it is before promptly slamming it shut again.

"Oh come on Harold," Louis calls through the wood, kicking the door lightly.

"We shouldn't go," He calls, sighing deeply and resting his forehead against the door.

"Of course we should, you got to show me off to your prick of an ex-boyfriend." Louis states, his tone light even if he's mirroring Harry's movements on the other side of the door.

"I'm not - it wasn't supposed to be to make him jealous, you know. That ship has sailed," Harry says, his hand hovering on the knob. He wants to open it, so bad, but he's not sure if he can handle Louis' presence in such a state.

"Well saying you're a loser without a date sounded harsh so," Louis admits, Harry letting out a small huff of laughter. Harry bites his lip, hesitating another moment before pulling open the door, making Louis stumble forward. He catches himself fast, giving Harry an awkward smile and a small wave.

"Hey, stranger," Louis greets, clutching an armful of neatly pressed clothes to his chest.

"Hi," Harry replies shortly, rubbing at his arm as his eyes trained on the floor.

"Are you high right now?" Louis asks, clearly trying his best to be casual as he smirks.

"Yes," Harry replies bluntly, shifting his feet.

"Are you planning on moving or are we just going to stand in the doorway of your flat exchanging awkward small talk?" Louis chirps. Harry shrugs his shoulder and moved farther into the flat, picking up the half-smoked joint he had abandoned an hour ago and lighting it up.

"I'm honestly offended that you smoked this much and didn't invite me. I literally cannot see four feet in front of me," Louis comments lightly. When Harry says nothing, his shoulders slump.

"Jesus, H."

"What?" Harry asks around the joint, taking a long drag and holding the smoke in his lungs.

"Talk t' me. I miss you, twat," Louis pleads. Harry exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl around his face before answering Louis.

"You're a dick."

"Um. Yes?" Louis says, moving toward the sofa and spreading his clothes over the back of it.

"Your a dick and I hate you," Harry states, his eyes glazed over as he stares at Louis.

"Harry. You do realize this is the first and only time you'll ever see me in a suit and tie and you're really killing my excitement, right?" Louis attempts at lightening the mood.

"Why do you do this to me?" Harry sighs, not even really paying attention to Louis' words.

"Do what? That outburst the other day, Harry, what was that? Niall walked in on us, it was funny, and you freaked out. I have no idea what the fuck I'm 'doing to you', but I'm sorry, alright? Whatever it is, I'm sorry, and I don't want things to be like this. Please," Louis rambles, tossing his hands around as he speaks.

"You care but you don't care, I-just whatever we can talk about it later," Harry says, shaking his head as he stands up.

"Harry, what the fuck, of course I care. I just wish I understood, for god's sake," Louis argues, then sighs. "Okay, fine, later. But can we - can we set it aside? I want you to be happy today."

"Sure, yeah." Harry agrees, rubbing a hand over his face.

Louis seems to accept that, staring at him for a moment before opening his arms. Harry falls into it easily, taking a deep breath as he lets himself melt into Louis.

"Okay," Louis says into his shoulder. "Sorted. So how're you doing my hair, grumpy?"

"I was thinking of shaving it all off actually," Harry replies, smirking as Louis pushes him playfully.

"Gimme," Louis says, nipping the stump of  
the spliff and taking the last few drags. Once it's out Louis grabs his clothes and heads to Harry's room, said boy following right after him.

"Tell me you have something nice," Louis says as he drops his clothes on Harry's bed (it's still stripped bare. He's been taking to the sofa the past few days anyway).

"Of course I do," Harry defends himself.

"Don't give me that tone, God knows if you own anything other than ripped jeans and those awful shirts," Louis says, rifling through Harry's closet.

"My shirts are not awful," Harry pouts, crossing his arms over his chest as Louis goes through his closet.

"Aha," Louis exclaims as he pulls out a black and white patterned button-up and crisp blazer with white trim on the breast pocket. He throws it to Harry who barely catches it as Louis starts to dig for slacks. When he can't come up with a pair, he's forced to resort to Harry's nicest pair of black jeans.

"How do you not have dress pants you animal?" Louis asks, tossing the jeans at Harry's head.

"I've never needed them. Since when are you the fashion guru, anyway, I've never seen you wear anything but t-shirts since I've known you," Harry retorts.

"I'll have you know I almost went into the fashion business," Louis huffs, walking over to collect his own clothes. Harry rolls his eyes and examines what Louis' brought for himself. A plain white button-up with red trimming, and a black blazer along with actual dress pants and a pair of sleek black dress shoes.

"Wow, you clean up nice." Harry nods, making Louis scoff.

"Ain't seen nothin, yet, Styles," He snips. "Even shaved my face."

"Going all out I see." Harry nods, pulling off his shirt.

Louis blinks and turns his head, shaking away the images from their...thing last week that instantly bombard him. Harry pulls off his sweats and pulls on the jeans, grabbing the shirt and buttoning it all the way up.

"Tuck it," Louis demands, pulling off his own clothes. Harry rolls his eyes but does as Louis says, grabbing a pair of black boots and slipping them onto his feet. Louis bounces over and pats Harry's arse.

"Lookin’ good, curly. That hair is going to be quiffed up so high when I'm done with it," He says, smirking.

Harry rolls his eyes and sits down on the bed so Louis can even reach his hair. Louis runs to the bathroom and digs until he finds a vat of gel and a comb. It's not too hard, considering Harry's grooming routine is decent enough to where he actually styles his hair some time. The man hardly lives up to his name.

"I'm not sure I trust you with that mop you have on your head." Harry teases.

"Just wait, idiot. We should get lunch before we head up there since we'll look fancy," Louis suggests, combing his fingers through Harry's fringe as he deciphers exactly how he's going to style such a curly mess.

"Alright, what did you have planned?" Harry agrees easily, watching the look of concentration on the smaller boy's face. Louis screws open the gel and dips his fingers in, threading it carefully through Harry's fringe before lifting the comb and teasing it upward into a high swoopy thing that slightly resembles a quiff. When he has it just right he stands back with a triumphant grin and takes in his handy work.

"I'm good," He drawls, patting Harry's thigh and dragging him up so he can see himself in the mirror above his dresser. Harry nods in approval after see it, admitting it doesn't look half bad for Louis' being the one who did it for him.

"Ok, so," Louis starts, playing with his own flat, unstyled fringe. "Messy quiff or slicked back, you think?"

"Messy quiff," Harry replies, watching as Louis styles his own hair.

"Back in uni, Zayn dared me to take a beauty class as like, an extra-curricular thing. Turns out it's useful," Louis explains as he quiffs his hair up effortlessly in less than three minutes.

"What else you learn from it?" Harry asks curiously, standing against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Bit of makeup, bit of hair coloring. Could do you some sick winged eyeliner," Louis answers, winking as he sets down his comb and turns away from the mirror.

"Might have to take you up on that sometime." Harry smiles, making Louis beam.

"Put on your jacket, I'm hungry," Louis demands, picking up his own blazer and draping it over his shoulders. Harry rolls his eyes but does as he told, grabbing his wallet and keys and stuffing them into his pocket.

"Oh! Hey, wait, I forgot something," Louis says, fumbling around.

"What?" Harry asks as Louis runs back to the room. He comes back with a tiny red flower, gestures to it vaguely before stepping close and pinning it slowly to Harry's lapel. It's a strangely intimate moment, and Harry finds it hard not to stare down Louis' nose as he thumbs the pin carefully with delicate fingers.

"So we can match, sort of," Louis says softly when he steps back after an agonizing few seconds.

"Sort of," Harry repeats, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but Louis.

"Come off it, you're supposed to be my boyfriend," Louis snickers, tapping Harry's cheek gently with his palm before lifting himself up for a quick, chaste peck on the mouth. Harry's left standing there frozen for a moment as Louis skips out of the room and off to the front door.

"You coming curly?"

*

Having dinner with Louis is awfully anticlimactic, something they've done so many times before, but that's not to say that it isn't different, necessarily. Louis' being ridiculous with the waitstaff, keeps holding Harry's hand on top of the table and announcing obnoxiously that Harry's his boyfriend to any unfortunate soul who happens to pass by.

Harry tries to look a little embarrassed, which isn't hard when he's with Louis, and only a little fond, which is hard when he's with Louis. He feels at ease, despite his extreme lack of sleep and the anxiety that had been gnawing at him for the past week and then some. He's not even a little worried about their believability, now that the tension has been resolved for the time being.

They've even been promised a free brownie sundae for being "cute" like Louis had proposed to him or something. When they finish up their meal Louis makes a show of fussing over Harry and him paying the bill, insisting Harry let him pay. Harry wasn't even going to offer if he's honest because the least Louis can do is buy him dinner after all this, but with the fond eyes of the waitress bearing down on them, he really has no choice but to play along. And it has nothing to do with the way Louis keeps softly touching his arm.

So Louis pays and their waitress tries not to squeal when Louis gives Harry a peck on the lips as they leave and Harry tries not to blush when Louis ushers him out the door with their hands locked together. Harry expects his fingers to loosen and drop away as soon as they're outside, but the steady warmth of Louis' palm pressed against his only tightens as he hails a cab.

For the whole twenty-minute cab ride Louis holds his hand, talking excitedly to the cabbie about the wedding they are going to for old friends. Harry's starting to wonder if Louis knows pretending to be his boyfriend doesn't exactly mean letting the entire world know that he's his boyfriend, but it works nonetheless, and has Harry is as red as the flower pinned to his chest by the end of the ride.

The ceremony itself is short and sweet, tears of happiness for the couple shed all around them. It's weird, though. The first time he's seen Nick in years, and he's kissing another man. He's not upset, or jealous, and Louis is warm at his side. His hand rests lightly on Harry's knee and he squeezes gently every time he feels Harry tense.

After the two men had tied the knot and everyone had applaud and sent them off with rice being thrown (Louis tried extra hard to hit Nick in the face with it) they headed off to the reception. It's in some hotel ballroom, decorated in a way Harry can only describe as "swanky", to which Louis responds with a rough pinch for his word choice. The newlyweds decided against serving dinner, instead had an open bar and a large cake to make up for it.

"Check that out, Harold, unlimited free drinks," Louis enthuses, Harry winding an arm around his waist as the fight their way through the masses in search of their assigned table.

When they find it they see four of Nick and Harry's old friends already there, all of who smiling wide when they catch sight of Harry. It's actually a delight to see everyone, and for some reason, it catches him by surprise. After exchanging hugs and cheek kisses, he glances at Louis. He's already making animated conversations with James, an old friend of Harry's. Harry can't help the smile that takes over his face as Louis speaks, surprisingly glad he's getting along with everyone.

"Nice to meet you, mate. You're Harry's boy, then?" Harry hears.

"Yeah, I'm his," Louis replies softly, Harry blushing as he comes to stand by Louis. Harry takes advantage and leans in to peck the corner of his mouth, the first thing he's initiated all night. Louis doesn't read into it, just beams up at Harry and continues his conversation with James. The lights get dimmer as everyone settles into their tables, Harry and Louis taking their seats just as the newlyweds' arrival is announced over a loudspeaker. Everyone cheers and hoots as the groomsmen come through the double doors in a flourish of laughs and flowers.

"How're you doing? Okay?" Louis leans over to whisper, lightly teasing his fingers over Harry's knee.

"Yeah, I'm good," Harry replies with a smile. Louis smiles and nods, helping himself to another glass of wine from the bottles that were on the table when they arrived. And Harry's fine, really and truly, but that doesn't mean he's entirely prepared when Nick collapses into an empty seat on his left side.

"Jesus Christ getting married is a lot of work." Nick smiles, grabbing the wine glass that Louis had just set down and taking a long swig.

Louis makes a fitful noise but immediately composes himself. Good thing, too, because Harry's currently panicking and Louis always knows how to save him.

"If you're looking to relax mate vodka is always the answer," Louis speaks up, Nick's eyes landing on him and looking him up and down before a lazy smirk spreads over his face. That buys Harry enough time to mostly collect himself, heartbeat still thrumming even as he smiles.

"Congratulations, mate. Never thought you'd settle down," he says, pleased that his voice sounds genuine in his own ears.

"Thanks, H, how've you been mate?" Nick says, giving Harry a once over.

"Good, yeah, great, actually. Um, I don't know if you've - this is Louis. My boyfriend," Harry answers, blindly searching for Louis' hand with his own. Louis clasps their hands together on the table tightly, giving Harry a firm squeeze to help calm him down.

"Oh, Louis, nice to meet you, mate. I'd shake your hand but it's occupied, it seems. Anyway, first dance is being announced in a few, but find me later and we can catch up, alright, Haz?" Nick says, very pointedly directing the conversation only to Harry. It's always been something he's done, only before he always directed it away from him.

"Yah sure Nick," Harry nods, his eyes barely leaving Louis' smiling face. As soon as he's out of earshot Louis' grin drops, so suddenly it looked like gravity pulled it from his face.

"You dated that fuck for _seven years_?" He hisses in disbelief.

"He's not that bad," Harry mutters, his eyes on his lap because even he isn't convinced by himself.

Louis gives him an incredulous look, unconvinced and still clutching his hand. Harry feels the need to elaborate.

"It was a sex thing, mostly. For him at least. And like I said, we didn't actually date that long, we'd stay broken up for months," He explains weakly, feeling a bit small.

"You deserve better," Louis states firmly, giving Harry's hand another squeeze.

"Someone like you?" Harry mutters, admittedly a bit coldly, because Louis' here to do him a favor, not take pity on him.

"Like I said, you deserve better," Louis repeats, patting Harry's hand before turning his attention to the newlyweds.

Harry resolutely refrains from rolling his eyes and sips at his wine as Nick and what's-his-face begin the first dance of the night. Harry gets through four drinks and five dances before Louis is pulling him to his feet and dragging him off to the floor. Harry protests at first, but Louis claims that if his moves are good enough they can even snog, and that shuts him up fast. The first song they dance to is a remix of some pop song that's always on the radio and Louis is not impressed.

"I like him less and less with each passing moment," He leans up to say into Harry's ear over the loud beat. Harry laughs and shakes his head, grabbing onto Louis' hand and dragging their bodies closer.

"I can't believe you tried to blow me off," Louis chuckles, staring up at Harry fondly and shaking his head.

"Shut up," Harry mutters, tickling at Louis' sides and making the boy squirm.

"Glad I managed to convince you, though. Twatty ex-boyfriends aside," Louis says genuinely. Harry shakes his head fondly, his hands moving to clasp behind Louis' back. He knows they're _that_ couple, slow dancing during an upbeat song, but he can't really find reason or rhyme to let go of Louis and bust a real move. So they stay close together, swaying back and forth with Louis' head resting on Harry's shoulder.

Harry's heartbeat thrums in his ears so loud he can hear it over the music, fingers drawing tiny circles on the small of Louis' back as he resists the urge to kiss his hair. He doesn't think Louis would mind, but Harry thinks he might, he knows if he does he won't be able to stop himself from doing something else. He settles for dipping his chin down and just sort of breathing him in, lips more or less touching his hair but not applying pressure. It's really really nice. It's probably going to kill Harry with how much he loves this moment. With how much he loves this _person_. Jesus.

"Wanna go dick around at the bar?" Louis asks softly, not raising his voice enough to break them out of their bubble.

"Don't really wanna move, to be honest," Harry murmurs into his hair.

"Passing up free alcohol just to dance with me? I'm flattered really curly." Louis teases.

Harry hums, muttering a "fine" before loosening his grip and leaning back a bit. Louis grins up at him, pecking him lightly on the lips before grabbing his hand and leading him off to the bar. Harry's still having trouble believing this. He's getting _kisses_ from Louis, regularly. He kind of wishes this night would never end, that he could just keep Louis and himself in their little bubble and just be happy. He sighs to himself, squeezing Louis' fingers as they reach the bar before letting go.

"A sex on the beach and a rum and dash of coke please." Louis orders, giving the bartender a charming smile.

"Know me too well," Harry snickers, right close against Louis' ear.

"Course," Louis replies, handing Harry his drink and the bartender a tip. Harry murmurs a thank you and slides onto a barstool, chewing at the straw lazily before taking a sip.

"Harry! There you are!" Nick calls out, coming from the other side of the bar and clasping Harry on the back. Harry jumps and whips his head toward him. He can actually feel Louis' scowl.

"Oh, hey, Nick," Harry greets, putting on his best genuine smile and waving.

"How's the party treating you H?" Nick asks, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulder.

"Great, how's being married treating you?" Harry retaliates, attempting to shrug him off as subtly as possible. It doesn't work very well, Nick's arm stays firmly drawn over his shoulder.

"Good good, hey you should pop over for tea sometime. We can catch up."

"Um, yeah. Thing is...," Harry attempts, struggling to find the right words.

"He'd rather not walk in on you sucking off your husband." Louis puts in, giving Nick a very fake smile.

"Louis," Harry hisses, flush crawling up his neck in embarrassment. Nick gives him a tight smile, his eyes narrowing as they take in Louis fully.

"Well, look at that. Fiesty one. He fucks you good, H?" Nick drawls, long and drawn out.

"Nick," Harry mutters, looking at his lap as he tries not to blush. It's a lost cause. His cheeks already burn and his hands are beginning to shake, out of rage or embarrassment, he's not sure.

"I do actually, take care of him a lot better than you ever did." Louis snips, standing up and grabbing onto Harry's hand. Harry makes a noise of protest, really wishing people would stop treating him like a child and speaking about him like he's not right there. He normally loves it, loves being used and shown off. But a fight between two people that he has called daddy isn't something he wants to be in the middle of. He lets Louis drag him off, but once they're a sizable distance away he stops him with a hand on the back of his neck. Louis looks up at him with rage and anger still clear in his eyes, but it softens when he looks up at Harry.

"He's just playing, Lou. You don't have to - to defend me all the time, I'm okay," Harry says, thumbing along the collar of Louis' shirt.

"I know you're my little flower that can't see the bad in anything or anyone but he has intentions no married man should have. I don't like it." Louis states, his hands moving underneath Harry blazer to settle on his hips. It doesn't feel like faking anymore. For Harry, it never did, really, but literally no one surrounding them is important enough for them to pretend, not that they're paying any attention anyway.

"We can leave if you want," Harry whispers, his eyes not meeting Louis.

"No, that's - I don't want to do that," Louis says, kissing Harry's jaw briefly before adding, "Unless you want to." Harry shakes his head, his shoulders tucked down to make him look smaller.

"Ok, well, sorted," Louis states. "I guess the only thing to do is get off our faced and snog on the dancefloor."

*

So they get extremely drunk off the open bar, giggling into each other's shoulders and stumbling around on the dance floor, Louis making it his mission to show off his sick moves. Harry stays off to the side, cackling wildly as Louis drunkenly attempts to breakdance. James, who is equally as drunk, come over to challenge Louis in his breakdancing skills. Louis shouts nonsense at him, then proceeds to pull his best move. Harry's practically wheezing over by the DJ booth, his drink sloshing all over the floor. A few others from Harry's old group of friends come over to join them and cheer them on, the lot of them all making fools of themselves.

Harry's having such a good time he could cry, and he's not even participating. It gets better, Nick comes out and challenges Louis to an Irish Jig dance-off. He's probably a little off his face himself, but it doesn't matter because Harry thinks it's the most hilarious thing he's ever seen second to the time Louis tried to balance all of his plates on his head (and had to buy a new set the next day). Louis shows off the moves Niall has been teaching him when they get high, Harry's not sure how he remembers them with the track record they have. Nick retaliates with some surprisingly practiced moves. Harry wonders if he's been taking classes or something. It's a difficult prospect to imagine. Louis decides to add what looks like a tractional Native American dance, dancing circles around Nick, literally.

Harry gives up and sits on the floor, tossing the remains of his drink back between giggles. When Nick starts doing the tango with his drunk grandma Harry decides to intervene. He stumbles over to Louis and grips his arm, dropping his head onto his shoulder and giggling against his neck.

"Curly! I missed you!" Louis shouts, peppering kisses over every inch of his face. Harry squirms and moves his hands to Louis' face, drunk enough to press their mouths together hard. Louis moans into it, his hands gripping Harry's waist hard enough to make Harry's cock twist.

It's not quite the same as the club, despite the sweaty bodies dancing around them, and they can't exactly just rub one off on each other right here, but god, does Harry want to. Louis starts sucking a love bite onto Harry's jaw, making Harry whimper as he grins against Louis. Harry cups a hand on the back of Louis' neck, pressing his fingers into the thin skin and wondering if he should push him away or not. He thinks he probably should, but at the same time, this is all he wants to do. He wants to feel Louis against him and inside him and fuck he has no willpower.

"God, lemme blow you," Harry gasps against his ear, three seconds from dropping to his knees right here on the dance floor what with the way Louis' kissing his neck. Louis nods fast, licking his lips and watching Harry's eyes follow his tongue. Harry glances around, eyes flitting wildly as he takes in their surroundings. There's a line out the door to the toilets, so that's not exactly an option.

"We should - we should go now," Harry states, voice nearly shot.

"Your?" Louis asks, pulling Harry's tucked shirt out to run his hands over his the boy's heated skin. Harry bites his lips and nods, stepping closer into Louis' touch. It only feels polite to say goodbye to Nick, but he can't bloody see him anywhere and he's pretty sure he looks obscene, anyway. He catches sight of him just as Louis is pulling him out the door, Harry waves and flashes a big smile before he's dragged outside and into the night air.

"Okay. Cab," Louis says slowly like he's trying to get his thoughts straight. His fingers drift on Harry's lower back, sliding underneath his shirt. Louis goes as far as digging his fingers into the back of Harry's pants to ghost a dry finger over the boy's hole, making him shiver and drop his head onto Louis' shoulder. He mouths desperately at Louis' neck, little pleas falling from his lips as Louis raises his opposite arm to hail down a cab. When one pulls up to the curb Louis presses the tip of his finger inside Harry quickly before his whole hand is gone and he's leading Harry into the cab. It takes Harry a second for his brain to catch up to him, stumbling ridiculously over his own feet and nearly tripping on the curb. When he finally gets all his limbs into the cab Louis is on his, practically crawling into his lap. Harry makes a noise and scrambles to shut the partition, waving awkwardly as he makes eye contact with the cabbie in the rearview mirror. He tells the cabbie his address, trying not to let his voice shake as Louis rubs his thigh. His fingers ghost over Harry's jeans, curling around his bulge and squeezing, just barely.

"Lou," Harry whimpers into the boy's ear, his head ducked down to mouth at Louis' neck.

"Shh, baby," Louis mutters, and _fuck_ , it's been so long since he's called Harry that he might actually cry. He just whimpers again and tries to pull Louis into his lap. Louis smiles at him but stays put, circling his fingers around Harry's wrists and holding them in his lap as he kisses up his jaw. Harry tries his best not to grind into Louis' hand which is lightly rubbing over Harry's growing erection.

"God, I want you so much. Your mouth," Louis breathes, using his free hand to thumb over Harry's lips, slick with liqueur and saliva.

"Can have it, please please," Harry begs, sucking Louis' thumb into his mouth. Sighing in bliss as he closes his eyes.

"Soon as we get home, promise, love," Louis says, pressing his thumb down on Harry's tongue and rubbing over his cock. The cabbie, a middle-age man with a half a head of hair, watches them intently from the rearview mirror.

"I can - I'm gonna make you come so hard," Harry breathes, followed by a whimper that edges on pathetic.

"I know you are darling, I know," Louis reassures, kissing behind Harry's ear. Finally, _finally,_ the cab sidles up to the curb in front of Harry's flat, the cabbie clearing his throat. Louis detaches himself from Harry, gives the cabbie the money they owe and helping a dazed Harry out of the car.

"Don't drop yet love, let's get inside."

Harry nods vaguely, and stumbles in alongside Louis, pulling him up the stairs since the damn elevator has been broken since the beginning of time. Louis gets the door unlocked and the doesn't bother with the lights, heading straight for the bedroom. Harry tries to drop to his knees as soon as Louis swings open the bedroom door, but he's gripped roughly by the hips before he can manage.

"On the bed sweetheart, strip." Louis orders, sending him off with a hard kiss before he starts to shed his own clothes slowly. Harry shoulders off his blazer and lets it drop to the floor, tearing open the buttons too quickly for a shirt so expensive, then undoes his belt unceremoniously. He shimmies out of his jeans and kicks of his boots, reaching down to pull off his socks and throw them crossed the room. He doesn't get to his briefs before Louis' gripping his shoulders and shoving them down, rough enough to make Harry moan ridiculously. He's pushed back onto the bed with no mercy, Louis manhandling and maneuvering his body however he wishes, making Harry feel so much lighter, makes his cock so much harder.

" _Fuck_ ," Harry gasps, burying his hands into Louis' hair now that he's finally able to mess it up a little. Louis doesn't waste any time, all of his clothing already removed, his cock hard and flushed against his stomach.

"Lou," Harry whines, trailing his fingers down Louis' stomach and then further, circling them around the base of his cock. Louis' hands shoot out to stop him though, pinning them both above his head as he crawls up Harry's body till he's straddling Harry's shoulders. Harry exhales shakily, murmuring out little yeah's and letting his jaw hang loose in anticipation.

"Shush darling, only want you to let me use your mouth." Louis whispers, smirking slightly because he knows what he's doing to Harry. He may be turned on beyond using his brain, but he knows enough not to encourage it any further or else Louis won't give him what he wants.

"Open." Louis orders, thumbing over Harry's bottom lip till the younger boy opens his mouth wide to take Louis' cock into his mouth. Louis feeds it in quickly, but not too quickly for Harry. He may not have done this in two months, but it's not to the point where he can't keep up. Harry tries to press his head up to take more but Louis won't have it, grabbing him by the hair and yanking his head back down.

"This isn't for you. Not yet," He says, tone soft but still scolding. Harry breathes in shakily, looking up at Louis with pleading eyes. Louis' expression softens and he strokes a finger up Harry's jaw, knocking the head of his cock against Harry's lips. He keeps one hand in the boy's hair as he pushes all the way in, Harry taking all of it in one go. His eyes begging for more.

"Jesus, you're so good, baby," Louis whispers as he rocks his hips once, experimentally. Harry moans around him, relaxing his throat around Louis' cock to try and get him deeper. Louis steadies himself against the headboard with the hand that's not in Harry's hair, staring down at him as he begins to fuck his hips forward. Harry takes shakily breathes through his nose as Louis fucks his mouth, his jaw starting to hurt just like he likes it. Harry lifts his hands to grip the backs of Louis' thighs, just for leverage, glancing up at him as he does to make sure it's okay for him to do so. Louis nods his head, letting Harry know it was okay. Harry hums his appreciation, digging his blunt nails in the slightest bit when Louis resumes rocking his hips with strong intent.

He's rough with it, just how Harry likes it. Going at it fast and hard with the intent to get off without really bothering with how Harry wants it. Harry wants to say so much, wants to curse and shout and tell Louis how much he loves it, but all he can do is moan appreciatively and take it. Louis starts pulling on his hair, rough and unremorseful to the pain he's causing Harry because he knows it comes with blinding pleasure. Harry can't breathe and it's not because there's a cock stuffed down his throat. He's throbbing in his briefs, so far removed from this intensity that he's forgotten how high it makes him feel. He grinds up into the air, whimpering because there's no friction on his hard cock and his arse is practically begging for anything Louis will give him.

He can't decide if he should make him come first or tap his thigh and ask. It turned out he doesn't have to because Louis is already tensing up like he's about to come. Harry moans encouragingly, forgetting about himself momentarily and finding himself eager to taste Louis on his tongue. But instead, Louis lets his cock fall from Harry's lips and with two rough, quick tugs he spills into his collarbones. Harry whimpers feeling like he was denied Louis' come, his head spinning as he paws at Louis' chest. He watches Louis' throat bob and then he's bending down, holding Harry's gaze as he slides his tongue across his collarbone and gathers his own come before intently pressing his mouth to Harry's. Harry moans in gratitude, sliding his tongue into Louis' mouth to gather up as much come as he could.

Louis continues feeding it to him, alternating between using his mouth and his fingers, then presses a close-mouthed kiss to Harry's bottom lip and turns his attention to his nipples. He sucks one of the nubs into his mouth, biting down hard enough to pull a gasp out of the younger boy while his right-hand plays with Harry's other nipple. Harry's skin is flaming, racked with a mild shiver every time Louis flicks his tongue a certain way. His cock is unbelievably hard in his pants, begging for friction Louis won't give him.

"Louis. Please," He pants, bucking his hips into the air again like he can't help it, and he can't, not really, although needless to say the air provides him no relief.

"Shh darling, I've got you." Louis whispers, one of his hands going down to cup Harry through his briefs. Harry lets out a shaky breath, paired with a quiet moan. He winds his arms around Louis' shoulders and does his best to keep his breath even as Louis rubs him softly, but it's to the point where he physically cannot take in enough oxygen to keep the blood from rushing to his head.

It doesn't help when Louis' mouth attaches itself to Harry's, cutting off the little air he had and replacing it with his tongue. And it definitely doesn't help when Louis replaces his hand with his arse, settling down on Harry's lap with his thighs bracketing Harry's hips and slowly moving back and forth over his cock.

"Fucking hell," Harry breathes out, his voice raspy and deep, his hands itching to touch Louis.

"Gonna ride you, 'til you come. Get the feeling it won't take too long," Louis whispers, lips pressed to the shell of Harry's ear. Harry shakes his head to tell him he's right, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth.

"Won't last long enough to get you off again," He says breathily, but Louis hushes him and assures him it's all about Harry now. Louis grinds his hips back, smirking when Harry can't help but buck up. He leans away suddenly, digging around in Harry's nightstand for lube. He comes back with the embarrassingly empty sachet considering Harry's been basically dry for two months, but he's too out of it to be ashamed of his masturbation habits. Louis squeezes the last of the lube onto his fingers and shoves two inside him without hesitation.

"Already - ah - already opened meself up in the shower this morning. Didn't really, _fuck_ , plan on this, but it comes in handy, eh?" Louis tells him breathless. Harry knows he's putting on a show, that he's too sensitive for it to be _that_ good, but it's hot nonetheless.

"Please da-Louis, please," Harry begs, his hands fisting the sheets.

"You can say it, baby," Louis encourages, pumping his fingers a few more times before wiping them on the sheets and fumbling for a condom.

" _Daddy_ , daddy please please daddy." Harry gushes, losing the last of his will, his mind going completely blank. Louis tosses his head back, huffing out a wet laugh like he's relieved. He makes quick work of working Harry's briefs down just enough to get his cock out and roll on the condom. Harry bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, Louis already lining Harry's cock up with his entrance.

"Don't think I've ever seen you this hard before," Louis comments lightly, followed by a hiss as he presses the tip inside.

"Daddy," Harry whimpers, trying his best not to buck up into Louis.

"You think I should let you fuck me? Fast and hard as you want, or I could - I could just..." Louis trails off, finishing the thought by lowering himself halfway and then dragging up, so fucking slowly it almost hurts. Harry whines high in the back of his throat, not being able to help it when his hips spasm.

"Alright, if that's how you want it," Louis says, raising his brows and bracing his arms on Harry's belly. "Fuck me, baby."

Harry doesn't have to be told twice, his hands grasping onto Louis' hips and dragging him up and down on his cock hard and fast. The friction is mind-blowing after being so turned on for so long, hot and tight and Harry's going to come before Louis even gets the chance to get it up again. And it's not right, Harry _needs_ to be good for daddy, he needs to get him off before he comes.

"Lo - daddy, I _can't_ , I need - " He tries, hips fucking up relentlessly despite the words coming from his own mouth.

"It's okay sweetheart, you can come," Louis reassures, stroking a loose curl out of Harry's eye. Harry shakes his head and reaches for Louis' cock bobbing between them, only to have his hand batted away.

"You either come in the next minute, or we stop." Louis threatens, giving Harry a meaningful look. Harry does two things next in quick succession: he blinks, and then he comes, hard.

"Good boy," Louis moans, working himself on Harry as he comes. Harry lets loose a string of curses as he rides it out, and it lasts for-fucking-ever, so long and hard it completely fogs up his mind for a few seconds. When it's over Louis gently gets off of Harry, shushing him when the younger boy whimpers.

"You did so good, baby," He whispers, pushing Harry's hair out of his face and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Harry's eyes are glazed over, unfocused as he pants.

"Hey. Hey, look at me, love, tell me how you feel," Louis says, hand on his arm, trying his best to keep him grounded.

"Floaty, really floaty daddy," Harry mutters, sighing as Louis rubs over his arm and chest.

"I need you to come back to me, okay?" Louis whispers, cupping Harry's jaw and turning his head towards him. Harry shakes his head, trying to roll over to nap but Louis won't let him.

"Harry, baby. Come on, daddy needs you to keep your eyes open," Louis continues, sitting up and carefully removing the condom, tying it off and tossing it to the floor.

"Can't, daddy can't." Harry whimpers, again trying to roll over. He's _so_ tired, and cold, and he feels so good and floaty he just wants to dream right now.

"Baby, I need you to look at Daddy please," Louis orders gently, trying not to be forceful. Harry makes an indignant noise and blinks away the haziness around his eyes, letting his head fall to the side to look at Louis. It takes a bit of concentration to keep his gaze from involuntarily shifting to the wall, but he thinks he gets it.

"Sweetheart, I need you to stay awake for me okay? You need to eat something." Louis tells, stroking a hand over Harry's face. Harry just stares lazily, boneless and exhausted, much too exhausted to argue.

"Can you walk for me? Or do you need me to carry you?" Louis asks softly, his thumb rubbing over Harry's bottom lip.

"Please don't - I don't wanna get up, daddy," Harry pleads.

"I can't leave you baby, but I need to get you food," Louis replies, giving Harry an apologetic smile. Harry whines but he has zero fight in him, watching Louis move. It comes in flashes as he's picked up, and Louis' not weak, per se, but Harry's a bit broad and his body is dead weight at this point, so it's a bit of a struggle. They get into the kitchen with only minor difficulty, Louis placing Harry down on the table while he goes to the fridge for a quick snack and a bottle of water. Harry manages to half-walk back to the bedroom, the water freshening his mind a little.

"Wanna sleep now, baby?" Louis asks, taking Harry's hand and leading him to the bed. He nods sleepily where he's leaning heavily on Louis' shoulder, mouthing lazily at his neck. Louis pets at his hair, humming a soft tune to try and get him to sleep easily. Harry buries his face in Louis' chest, feeling better than he has in a long time.

*

Harry sleeps for a good 15 hours before he finally wakes up the next day, his jaw sore and his body well-rested. Louis' not in bed next to him, which freaks him out a bit at first, until he comes to enough to register the telltale pitter-patter of the shower running in the next room.

He drags himself out of bed to get a drink of water and a banana before heading back to the bed. He takes his banana with him, crawling under the sheets once he finishes and closing his eyes for another minute as he revels in the healthy ache in his bones. He peels the banana open and starts to take tiny bites from it, closing his eyes again as he gets comfortable. So that's how Louis finds him, half asleep and naked with a banana hanging out of his mouth.

"Trying to tell me something curly?" Louis teases, slipping into the bed.

"Hi," Harry says, foregoing answering the question and cracking open an eye.

"Hi," Louis chuckles, supporting himself on his elbows, the towel around his hips riding low. Harry opens his other eye and lets them flit downwards briefly, making Louis roll his eyes and flick him in the arm.

"Minx," He mutters. Harry shoves the rest of the banana into his mouth and smiles innocently around it.

"Ah, fuck it," Louis whispers, and it's wonderful how he giggles into Harry's mouth and lets him blow him right into the sheets. When they both finish they lay in bed tangled up in the blankets, Harry's head resting on Louis' chest.

"I have to say your skills were not up to their usual level, Curly. I honestly think you tried harder on the banana," Louis comments idly after a few moments of quiet.

"You know what you twat, I don't know why I put up with you," Harry states, hitting Louis softly on the stomach. Louis cocks a smile and catches Harry's hand as he moves to retract it. He looks away like he's pondering something then raises his opposite hand before speaking up.

"I do, actually. I'm charming, incredibly witty, not to mention my natural good looks, _and_ , bonus points for making you come like no tomorrow," He lists, grin on his lips. Harry smiles up at Louis, his hair is in his eyes and he has a bit of come still on his hand and his skin is beautifully tanned and Harry can't anymore, he _can't._

"You forgot the part where I'm in love with you just a bit."

The thing is, Harry knows instantly that he fucked up. He can see the physical change in Louis' features, first confusion, then disbelief. His grip loosens and he lets Harry's hand slip out of his, but he doesn't look away, just keeps searching Harry's eyes like he's waiting for the punchline.

"How can you-how?" Louis asks, his brows turned down in confusion. Harry wants to tell him to forget it, but Louis' asking a question (a ridiculous question at that) and he feels the need to clarify.

"Louis, I - there's no _how_. I just feel, like, good around you. Safe. Like last night, I just - it feels right."

"Harry, why in hell would you-I'm, I can't lo-" Louis cuts himself off, sitting up to rub a hand over his face.

"Louis. Please don't run from me, I swear to God if you run from me _again_ , I - " Harry's cut off by a sharp intake of breath that invades his throat, wiping furiously at his eyes to keep them from filling. Louis seems to snap out of it a bit, grabbing onto Harry's face with both hands and giving him a hard, sloppy kiss.

"I'm not running. I swear. I do need to go, though, I just - I need to think," He says when he pulls back, pressing another fleeting kiss to the corner of Harry's mouth.

"I'll be back. Tomorrow, even. Promise."

*

Louis doesn't come back tomorrow or the next day.

Or the next.

And Harry does not cry. He doesn't.

He doesn't have a fucking phone, but it doesn't matter, because neither does Louis. Every call that Niall charges five pence for goes straight to voicemail, just as Harry expects because _Louis doesn't have a fucking phone._ He's not really sure what to do with himself, he goes to work and he tries not to cry in public and he eats at least twelve bananas a day and he _doesn't cry_.

Harry works up the courage to go to his flat exactly three times, and each time he's not there, so three times Harry steals a bottle of wine from his cabinet out of pure spite and gets drunk with the illegal cat. All the while praying that Louis either does or doesn't show up, which he's not sure.

Each time he doesn't show up and Harry takes the illegal cat in spite because Louis isn't here to feed it and Harry isn't sure how it's still alive and he needs something to cuddle at night. He has no way to contact Louis and none of his friends know shit.

Well, Zayn - Zayn probably does, but for whatever reason Harry hasn't worked up the courage to go to him yet. It sort of feels like the last straw, like giving up, like accepting that Louis doesn't want him and that Harry's only getting information for closure or something else pathetic. After the third week of no Louis, he breaks down and finds himself at Zayn's door with his hands in his pockets and his bottom lip between his teeth. The first thing Zayn does is pull him into a hug, tight and comforting and, embarrassingly, tear-inducing.

"Did he tell you?" Harry asks timidly against his shoulder, sniffling a little.

"Just told me he was going to be gone for a bit," Zayn replies, rubbing Harry's back comfortably. Harry lets out an involuntary sob, because what the _fuck_ does that mean.

"It's my fault," He whispers shakily, fingers trembling against Zayn's back.

"No, no Harry, Louis' a fucktard," Zayn states, pulling back and gently wiping away Harry's tears with the pads of his thumbs.

"He promised he wouldn't fucking go," Harry gasps out, panic settling in his gut and making his bones shake. Zayn wraps Harry back up in his arms, pulling him into his flat and half-carrying him to the couch.

"I - I want you to tell me what happened. Can you do that, can - "

"Okay, don't fucking treat me like a child. Why does everybody do that?" Harry snaps exasperatedly.

"Because, because you like it?" Zayn says hesitantly, raising an eyebrow as he rubs Harry's back.

"I like it to an extent. That extent is sex, so unless you're going to fuck me, Zayn Malik, I need you to treat me like an adult. Please," Harry rambles. Yeah, he may have had a bit of extra wine before he showed.

"You want me to fuck you?" Zayn asks, shrugging his shoulders.

"God - _no,_ I mean, um...no. That's not the point. I - I told Louis I'm in love with him," Harry says, averting his eyes.

"Fuck," Zayn sighs, grabbing his pack of fags off the coffee table and lighting one up. "That's never something you tell Tommo."

"I know that. I knew that before I said it, but I - he always acts like he feels _something_ , you know. The past two and a half months after he told _me_ to fuck off, he kept making all these advances and I gave in and he fucking took care of me. He made me drink _water_ , Zayn," Harry rambles, biting his lip and scrubbing away at his watering eyes. Zayn takes a drag from his fag, setting it down in the ashtray before pulling Harry into his lap, letting the boy rest his head on his shoulder as he cries silently.

"I'm so fucking sorry, H. It's like clockwork, y'know, Louis gets into something that he might actually have to commit to and his first instinct is to run away like it'll actually solve something. But you know what? He always comes back. Trust me," Zayn assures, carding his fingers through Harry's hair.

"I hate him so much," Harry cries, burying his face into Zayn's neck.

"That's good. That's healthy, babe," Zayn says, his phone buzzing on the coffee table. Zayn sighs and grabs it off the table, making sure not to move Harry around too much.

"Oh, shit," Zayn mutters as he opens it up, shifting a little and pursing his lips.

"What?" Harry asks, leaning in closer to see. Zayn doesn't try to hide the screen, but he probably should have, because what Harry sees instantly adds nausea to the ever-growing list of things he's feeling right now.

It's Louis, of course it's Louis it's _always Louis_ , but it's Louis Facebook with pictures of him snogging boys half-naked and partying in dark clubs and getting felt up by everyone around him and Harry hates him so _goddamn much_ because they were posted less than ten minutes ago.

"So the infamous uni Facebook page is back in business, then," Harry laughs dryly, sniffling and biting his lip to keep it from trembling. So that's it, then.

"I'm sorry H," Zayn apologizes for his dick of a best mate. Harry shrugs and mutters, "it is what it is." Zayn smiles a little at the line, sliding his phone back into the table.

"Do you need anything?" Zayn asks the still crying boy, running a hand through the boy's curly hair.

"Could you kiss me?" Harry blurts, cheeks immediately heating up as he says it. He's never been particularly shameful of his own sexuality and what it entails, and currently, it entails feeling something. Feeling loved, needed, cared for.

"I can do that yah," Zayn smiles softly, his hand dropping to the back of Harry's neck and pulling him down to brush their lips together. Harry's sort of surprised that Zayn doesn't ask him to explain out loud, but it's also something one can expect out of someone like Zayn.

So they kiss and Harry doesn't feel so shitty because Zayn is gentle with him and his lips are so soft and he is holding Harry like he's the most beautiful thing in the world. Harry wants to cry because it's all so _nice_.

He wishes he'd fallen for Zayn instead, in some parallel universe. He's exactly like Louis in a lot of ways, only he harbors some level of compassion and Harry just can't love him the way he does Louis. Harry thinks this is good for him, to actually get the attention his stupid brain needs. He's gotten bad before, spiraling down hill because he just needed someone to tell him he was good and that they cared.

The kiss stays soft and dry; Zayn doesn't try to deepen it and Harry doesn't need him to. Zayn's hands have a slightly rough feeling to them as they run over Harry's neck and under his shirt, but it's comforting. Harry breaks it first, pulling back with a soft kiss to the corner of Zayn's mouth, his brain fuzzy and sated.

"Do you wanna like, get dinner?" Zayn asks after a moment of just the two of them breathing had passed. Harry hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. He's not really hungry, but he's been drinking on an empty stomach and if he doesn't eat something he's going to feel it in the morning.

"Let's go then, princess." Zayn chuckles, lifting Harry up and setting him on his feet. He wipes away the last of Harry's tears and gives him a quick kiss on the mouth before grabbing his hand and leading him to the door.

*

So it becomes a Thing.

Harry self-destructs by checking Louis' page daily, and there are always updates and it fucking hurts. Sometimes he goes to Zayn's when he's feeling sorry for himself and sometimes Zayn comes to him to check-in, and all the time it ends in soft kisses to negate the ache in Harry's chest.

It's really fucking nice is the thing, Zayn treats him like a queen and is always there to hold him if he needs it or just to sit and smoke with him. He even lets Harry see some of his sketchbooks filled with drawing of superheroes and his family and he recently even found some of himself. There's some of Louis, too, but Harry carefully skips over those with as much calm as he can muster. Today, in particular, they're just lounging about eating takeaway and watching reruns of America's Next Top Model, cuddling occasionally in their mock-couple sort of way, when Zayn suddenly pauses the telly and looks at Harry with sincerity.

"He loves you too, you know," He says slowly. "He doesn't know how to deal with it and I don't know if he ever will, but he does." Harry ducks his head down so his chin hits his chest and he doesn't have to look at Zayn while his eyes steadily build with tears.

"He asked me once, what it feels like to be in love. I told him I have no idea, and he said 'I think I do'. He panicked, but I honestly think he'll come around," Zayn continues, looking more sincere than Harry's ever seen him.

"I-thank you, for like everything Zayn," Harry whispers, his mouth feeling dry. Zayn smiles a little and nods before adding, "Of course, he was blown as all fuck, but that just makes it all the more honest." Harry lets out a wet chuckle, wiping at his eyes as he gives Zayn a lopsided smile. "You, Harry Styles, are a lovely person. I wish I'd hit it first, to be honest," Zayn chuckles.

"So do I," Harry agrees, sending a small smile Zayn's way.

"Okay, I have to go home and get ready for work now, but I'm glad that's been established. The Louis thing, anyway," Zayn says, standing and stretching out his limbs. "Stay off Facebook, yeah?"

"Alright, is-is it okay if I maybe stay at yours tonight?" Harry asks shyly, wringing his hand in his lap.

"Course, babe. You can just come with me now, if you like, hang out while I work. Short shift," Zayn answers.

"That sounds nice." Harry nods, lifting himself off the couch and grabbing onto Zayn's hand. Harry thinks a lot about what Zayn said in the car. It shouldn't be reassuring after Louis fucked off to God knows where, after Louis promised not to run away and then did anyway, but he finds it comforting knowing Louis loves him back.

When they get to Zayn's flat Harry goes straight to the kitchen to distract himself with baking while Zayn goes off to get ready for work. He cooks more food than necessary, resolutely trying not to let his resolve crumble every time Zayn's laptop catches his eye. Louis' obviously active on social media, maybe, just maybe it wouldn't hurt to shoot him a message. Even if it did hurt anything it would only be Harry, so after a good few hours of fighting with himself about it, Harry logs onto Facebook off of Zayn's laptop and begins to type out a message to Louis. It's...not as easy as it sounded.

He can think of fuck all to say, at first it's just a 'hey', then he backspaces and writes 'i fucking hate you', then he backspaces again and types out an entire paragraph that's basically just him calling Louis a pussy over and over again in different words. All of which he deletes and stares blankly at the blinking message box. He's in the middle of typing out a very wordy paragraph about how much he would like to stick Louis' head up his own arse when the front door opens. Harry curses and backspaces everything, dropping his forehead to the keyboard and incidentally typing a bunch of random bullshit.

"Harry," Zayn sighs from the doorway, stripping off his jacket and shoes and coming over to sit by the boy.

"God, fuck," Harry groans, closing the message tab and pouting out his bottom lip. Zayn kisses it dramatically in hopes to make him smile, getting just a flicker of dimples before Harry's head is buried in his chest.

"He'll come around when he's ready, H. Promise," Zayn whispers against his hair. Harry's not sure if he believes him.

*

Louis has no idea where he is.

He knows he took a few hundred bucks out of his savings, bought an ounce of weed, and eighth of cocaine, three strips of LSD and a stripper. He now has no weed, no LSD and no stripper.

The cocaine is still in his ass so it's at least some what of a win. His head is throbbing but he can't really feel it, and his arm is stuck in something gooey and his mouth is as dry as the Sahara. He doesn't think he could move if he tried. The past few weeks are a daze, days jumbled together with alcohol and drugs and dancing and sex.

He ran to forget, and if he's honest, it's working. He thinks if Zayn were here he'd be getting a thorough verbal beating, but Zayn's not here. Hell, _Louis_ is barely even here, wherever 'here' may be. He's made some friends at least, they even let him bum some weed off them and all he has to do is fuck them, he thinks it's a win-win situation. He's been bumming out in the same flat for almost a week now, which is a new record. He figures he needs to get up and restore some energy if he's to go clubbing tonight, but his body probably needs a break, anyway.

He grabs the laptop that's sitting on the side table of the bed he's in along with the phone that is there that isn't his and logs onto his Uni Facebook. He's not really sure what he's gaining from keeping it active, and sometimes he's guaranteed to regret all the public photos of him in skimpy outfits, sweaty and licking salt from various people's collarbones, but right now he's coping.

So he posts all the photos from the past weeks and adds some people and drug dealers to his friends' list before going off in search of some food. There's someone in the kitchen that he's never seen before, or maybe he has and just doesn't remember, but either way, Louis just grunts out a vague acknowledgment before heading to the fridge. He pulls out a box of take away that there and heats it up in the microwave before searching around for a fork. His head is fucking pounding and he sort of just wants a cuddle at the moment. He's been working hard to shut off his emotions but he's still human, after all.

After he finishes his food and the guy had fucked off to who knows where Louis went to take a shower in hopes to clear his mind and body. He's got dirt in places he'd prefer not to disclose and he smells like booze and cigarette smoke. The water is lukewarm to start with and halfway through it turns flat out cold, and Louis reconsiders every decision he's ever made. He gets out fast and checks the time on the laptop back in the room, seeing it's a reasonable time to go back out and party. He stumbles to the small duffle he's somehow managed to keep with him and digs for an outfit, coming up with a scoop neck t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts, because it's bloody roasting wherever he is. He dresses fast and grabs his pack of fags and the cocaine from his bag and heads out the door.

He's somewhere downtown, and it's just reaching dusk. Rubbish litters the street and he passes several homeless people pushing carts as he searches for a seedy club to lose his thoughts in. He finds one a few blocks down the road, music already pounding the walls and a rough-looking bouncer at the door. Louis spends a whole minute standing a hundred feet away debating how to flutter his eyelashes and be let through without queuing, but as it turns out, the bouncer lets him through before he can so much as blink. Huh.

When he gets inside its already half packed, people mingling at the bar, grinding on the dance floor and snorting coke at the tables. Louis' always preferred clubbing with friends, but there's something thrilling about walking into a place full of people and not knowing a single one of them.

He approaches the bar and orders his first drink, making polite conversation with the attractive barkeep. It didn't take long for Louis to find his way into the dance floor after he had finished his drink and a few shots too. Things are already getting a bit hazy, and it probably has something to do with the line he did in the bathroom. He finds himself in the middle of the floor with hands roaming over his body and people pressed up against him from ever side, it's nice.

It's a distraction.

A distraction from the thoughts niggling at the back of his brain. From the fact that he hasn't paid any of his bills back home, he has most definitely lost his job, that all of his friends could be dead right now for all he knows. A distraction from Harry. And, yes, a distraction is exactly what he needs.

*

Louis has done a lot of things in his short life, he's picked pockets, stole a cop car, had sex numerous times in broad daylight. Any drug you can name and let a boy call him daddy. But this was his first orgy. He's got three gorgeous men and one gorgeous girl surrounding him, all panting and lazily kissing each other as they come down. He himself is dead center in a king-sized bed that smells like coconut suntan lotion, staring blankly at the ceiling as sweat dries on his skin.

One of the boys, Louis doesn't know any of their names so he'll call this one Teddy because Louis thinks he kind of looks like a teddy bear. So, Teddy turns to him, a kind grin on his face that doesn't quite match the expression he had worn minutes ago when he was spanking the girl into the mattress, but Louis should know.

"Wanna smoke?" Teddy asks, grabbing a blunt that is on the nightstand near the bed. The girl lets out an excited giggle and snatches it from Teddy's hand before Louis can answer. He thinks he'll call her Mary Jay. Louis doesn't know if he feels like it. He might still be high from earlier, and he's definitely still drunk, mind blank save for flitting images of a certain pair of green eyes and bones heavy. He guesses it's a good thing because Mary doesn't look like she's going to share, smacking away Teddy's hand when he tries to take it from her.

On his left side, a boy he'll call Big Nose, because, well, is shuffling about looking for something, and who Louis assumes to be his boyfriend is tapping at his phone while humming a familiar tune. The boyfriend has flaming red hair all gelled and spiked up, so Louis nicknames him Ginger Cactus. It's all a bit much, even for him. He's not really sure what to do with himself if he is honest. He picks himself up off the bed, wobbly legs and all, and stumbles to the adjoining bathroom to splash some water on his face, hoping it will clear his muddled brain.

It works to an extent, but when he gets back out to the bed room Mary and Teddy are kissing lazily while Big Nose and Ginger Cactus cuddle and he feel so bloody alone. He's been fucked by a lot of boys the past few days, but if he was sober enough at the time, he's noticed something's off. They don't cuddle him afterward and they don't look at him like he's the sun and they most definitely don't put every ounce of fucking trust they have in him.

There's also the fact they are fucking him most the time, being called a slut and a pretty bitch and yah, Louis likes it but he also likes cuddles and soft kisses and curly hair and green eyes and fuck. He's so fucked. He collapses back into bed and doesn't bother to check if he's disturbed any of his neighbors.

"Fuck," he hisses out loud, and he's not sure he meant to do that, but. He did.

"You alright mate?" Big Nose asks, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

"I'm a selfish piece of shit," Louis sighs, and well, now that he's admitted to himself. Mary hums, taking a drag from the rather large blunt.

"Care to explain?"

"Um. There's just...a boy," Louis says vaguely, waving his hand as he speaks.

"A boy?" Teddy repeats, Louis getting everyone in the room's attention now.

"Yes. A boy. He's - he's perfect. And I let him go because I'm a fucking coward and it was a huge fucking mistake," Louis says, all in the same breath.

"Why don't you go get him back?" Ginger Cactus asks, sitting up from where he was pressed against Big Nose.

"He wants so much, and I want to give it all to him, but I - I don't know if I can," Louis sighs, desperately scrubbing at his prickling eyes. Fucking embarrassing.

"So like, a gold digger?" Mary asks curiously. Louis laughs at the irony of that, smiling to himself when he thinks about the first time he saw Harry.

"No, he'd give me his arms if I asked." Louis chuckles, shaking his head fondly. All four of his companions stared at him in confusion, prompting him to elaborate.

"Just, I'm twenty-four and the closest thing to a relationship I've ever had was a two-week fling with my childhood best mate. And me and Harry - that's the boy - we've known each other for four months and I fucking know everything about him. I know that he talks nonsense in his sleep sometimes and his favorite cereal is Coco Pops and that he likes to go commando on weekends and I know that he's in love with me." Louis pauses to breathe, which at this point is a difficult feat.

"Do you love him?" Mary asks, crawling closer to the boy to look down at him. Louis swallows and shuts his eyes, met with a beautiful long body and curly hair and green eyes.

"Yes," He finally squeaks, kickstarting a flurry of butterflies deep in his belly.

"Then what the fuck you doing here? Get your arse in gear." Mary states, slapping Louis lightly on the cheek.

"It's not like that. I fled when he told me and it's almost been a month without a word. I'm sure he never wants to see me again. I fucking promised him I wouldn't run," Louis admits. God, why did he run?

"Man you can't just take off when the going gets tough, you have to work through it and if you really care about this guy and he cares about you, I think you can get passed the running." Ginger Cactus states. Louis wouldn't have pegged him as the caring type.

He's probably also stoned to hell unless the whites of his eyes always match his flaming red hair. Either way, Louis is actually affected by his words and the murmured agreements and added encouragement from the rest of the group only fuel it. Louis sits up fast, nodding his head at the boy's words as he looks around for his clothes.

"Alright, I'm gonna go back to him. One question, where am I?"

*

Louis is fucking stoked. Turns out he'd made his way to Belgium, and now as he hops trains back to London, there's an unidentified bounce to his step. The train ride is long, but Louis thinks the weed he smoked before getting on helped. He makes it into London and heads straight to Harry's flat. He's so fucking excited, but it doesn't overshadow the squirrely nerves building in his belly. He stands outside Harry's door for a good ten minutes, messing with his fringe and convincing himself that this is a good idea before he finally lifts himself to his tiptoes and edges the spare key off the top of the door frame.

He gets the door open after another few minutes of psyching himself up and steps into the flat. It's quiet. Harry's not in the foyer or the kitchen, but Louis hears vague movement in the direction of the living room, so with high hopes and a fluttering heart, he follows the sound. Louis thinks his heart might have been ripped out of his chest at the sight that he just walked into. Harry's sprawled out on the sofa, shirtless with a bowl of crisps neglected on the coffee table and some American program on the telly.

Typical.

Zayn is on top of Harry, also shirtless, holding his wrists above his head as they snog lazily.

Not so typical.

Louis not sure how long he just stands there, shock frozen as he watches his best mate and the love of his life snog. Eventually, he does the only thing he can think of to do - he flees.

Or, tries to, at least.

Only, Harry's still got that fucking mess of cords bundled in the corner of the room that Louis has _told_ him to clean up on numerous occasions, and Louis fucking trips on them and faceplants into the wall. It's loud enough to make Harry and Zayn break apart to see what has happened, both of them going wide-eyed at the boy on the floor.

"God, fuck," Louis curses, scrambling to sit up and untangle his ankles from the cords. Harry's pushing Zayn off of him, tumbling off of the sofa and struggling to tug his discarded shirt over his head. He puts it on backward.

"Louis what-?" Harry pants, looking between the shorter boy and Zayn. His jaw is practically unhinged, and he's blinking so rapidly it would be comical in a different situation. Louis finally gets his legs free and scrambles up from the floor.

" _Louis_. Oh, my God, Lo - I'm so sorry -" Harry starts, but Zayn jabs him and shoots him a look, although he's clearly still a little bewildered himself.

"Right right." Harry sighs, closing his eyes and trying to collect himself. Just as Harry starts to say something else, Louis cuts him off.

"I'm going now," He breathes, eyes flitting to the hall.

"Louis wait!" Harry shouts, but Louis is already out the door and running. He hears Zayn speaking softly behind him, and Harry stops shouting.

Good for Louis, at least.

"Harry, babe it's okay I'll talk to him. Just-how about you lay down?" Zayn cosy, a hand rubbing over his back soothingly. Louis swallows and stumbles down the stairs of Harry's flat complex, making a beeline for the door.

His body hits the door head-on and he crashes into the street, feeling drunk and confused. He can't clear his head enough to hail down a cab or find the nearest underground back to his own flat, so he just sits on a bench on the curb outside Harry's building and puts his head in his hands. He feels like someone dropped a load of bricks into his stomach and he thinks he might cry.

He can't count the number of times he's let Harry down and he knows he's being unfair, but he's never been anything if not selfish. It's not like he was gone that long, only a few weeks. It doesn't mean Harry had to run off to _Zayn_ just because Louis needed to get his head on straight. This is exactly what he was afraid of, this game of back-and-forth. He fucked it up and now Harry's fucked it up and it's all fucked from every fucking angle.

Fuck.

*

Louis goes MIA for another five days, finding himself in Germany this time and comes home with another illegal cat. He finds Zayn sitting on his couch with his first illegal cat cuddles up on his lap.

"I can't fucking believe you," Is the first and only thing he says, eyes hard. The cigarette hanging out of his mouth is burned to the filter, and he grinds it out on Louis' fucking sofa cushion without breaking eye contact.

"Fuck off you fucking twat!" Louis spits, glaring down at Zayn. He lets the illegal cat that's in his hands run off to go find food.

"You want to explain to me what the fuck you've been trying to do?" Zayn demands coldly.

"I don't need your shit Malik, so why don't you get the fuck out of my flat. I'm sure Harry could use a good fucking." Louis snaps bitterly, snatching the pack of fags that's on the table up.

"You're saying that to make me feel bad, right? You want me to feel bad for taking care of your boy when you fucked off indefinitely to God knows where?" Zayn counters, cocking an eyebrow.

Louis hates how calm he is.

"I was coming back! I just needed to do some things, I didn't ask you to fucking take care of him!" Louis shouts, harshly shoving a fag between his lips and lighting the end of it.

"Did someone fuck your morality out of you? Your brains? You fuck, I didn't ask for all your emotional fucking baggage, and I still got it. I'm sick of picking up after you," Zayn snaps.

"I didn't fucking ask you too!" Louis screams, throwing his hands up in the air and breathing deeply through his nose.

"Oh, Christ, Louis. You try to make yourself seem so fucking big and mighty, but you're such a bloody coward -"

Louis hits him.

Raises a closed fist and clocks him straight in the jaw, probably mostly because he's right.

Zayn's head snaps to the side almost comically, rubbing over his jaw as he stands up calming, giving Louis a long look before jabbing him right in the mouth. Louis thinks he knocks a tooth loose, and he definitely feels blood trickling down his chin, tastes it. Louis spits out some of the blood now pooling in his mouth, his lips turned down in a scowl as he pushes Zayn hard in the chest.

Zayn doesn't push back, just shakes his head and rubs his jaw. Louis' only response is to shove at him again, daring him to retaliate. Louis huffs out a frustrated annoyed sound and pushes him again, and again and again when Zayn won't do anything but look at him with sympathetic eyes.

"Don't you - don't you think _I_ might have needed my best mate this past month? I don't want to fucking hit you, Louis, I want you to realize how important you are to some people," Zayn says, doing his best to fend off Louis' blows without getting him back.

Louis hits him in the cheek, making Zayn stumble back a bit. He gets a hold of Louis' wrists as he tries to keep swinging, only to knock them both off balance and send them crashing to the floor.

"God, fuck, Louis, _stop_ ," Zayn snaps, squeezing Louis' wrists tight and letting out an exasperated breath.

And Louis, Louis starts to fucking cry.

He buries his face into Zayn's chest and just balls, his chest heaving and his throat closing up. Zayn shuts his eyes and Louis feels his arms snake around his waist, one hand moving to card through his hair as he cries. Zayn just lets him cry, they don't speak and they don't move from the floor. Zayn kisses his cheek and forehead a few times when it gets really bad.

After a good chunk of time, Louis lifts his head, scrubbing at his eyes and willing himself to calm down. Zayn gives him a small smile and pecks him on the lips, running a hand down over his back and bum.

"I'm in love with Harry," Louis blurts, muttering the words into Zayn's collarbone.

"No shit," Zayn responds, making Louis let out a watery laugh.

"I'd been psyching myself up all day and I was gonna do it, I was gonna tell him, but then I - he was with you, and it hurt so fucking bad..." Louis trails off, fighting to keep the bitter out of his tone.

"Do you want to know why I was there?" Zayn asks, not giving Louis time to say no as he continues. "Because Harry needed someone to care for him. Christ, he felt like you had abandoned him, Lou."

"That's ridiculous. I told him I'd be back, that I just needed to have a think. I did that, and now I'm here," Louis argues.

"You said you'd be back the next day. You were gone for a month Louis. You can't just expect him to be okay with that." Zayn counters, sighing.

"Well, what the fuck am I meant to do, then?" Louis whines, groaning.

He's a whipped idiot.

"Fuck, man up and go get your boy." Zayn huffs, a smile playing on his lips. Louis doesn't have to be told twice.

Or, a third time, technically.

*

After a quick last snog with Zayn to say goodbye to old times Louis gets kicked out of his own flat by the boy to go talk to Harry.

Harry's working, absolutely swamped by his desk job at his uncle's law firm, sorting files and answering phones and booking appointments and resolutely not thinking about Louis. He's definitely not thinking about Louis. Or Zayn. Or Louis seeing Zayn with his tongue down Harry's throat.

Nope.

He's currently arguing with a man on the phone about an upcoming stapler shipment, has been for ten minutes, which, stupid. He's so exasperated by the sound of clicking stilettos and ringing phones that he doesn't even notice the door swing open. That is until a familiar voice rings out loud and clear throughout the whole room.

"Is there a Harry Styles in here?" Louis, fucking Louis, calls out. Harry immediately trails off in the middle of his response to the man on the phone, all of his co-workers' eyes drifting to him. Harry blushes bright red and mutters something into the phone before hanging up, giving Louis a pointed look.

"What are you doing here Louis?"

"Shh, hear me out. I - I know I went a little crazy after you said that stuff, but like, I've fucked a lot of people and _you_ are by far the best. I was in Belgium last week, apparently, and I had this orgy but that's an entirely different story, but anyway, I admitted for the first time that I'm in love with you, and I've misunderstood a whole lot of things but I understand why you fucked my best mate, and I'm totally okay with it," He pauses, breathless, staring intently at Harry as he buries his face in his hands.

"And I love that you call me daddy and depend on me so much and hell if you ask me to put you in a nappy I would because I love you." Louis continues, getting closer and closer to Harry's desk, his volume never going down of course.

"I love that you like it to hurt a little and how you love to cuddle afterward, and I love that you're probably not wearing pants right now." He goes on and on and Harry is so fucking humiliated and endeared at the same time.

"Louis!" Harry interrupts as the older boy starts to talk about Paris and how amazing Harry looked in a skirt. "Shut up."

Everyone is staring at them, specifically Harry. He's definitely redder than the cherry wood of his desk and Louis is beaming in front of him, the shit.

"First off I hate you." Louis pouts a bit at his words but Harry continues. "Second, where the hell have you been and third I love you too you complete fucking knobhead."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for running and I'm sorry for hurting you," Louis says, finally quieting his voice. Harry shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly and chuckling softly.

"You're an arsehole. A complete and utter arsehole. But I forgive you." Louis breathes out like he's been holding it in, tumbling forward to press a kiss to Harry's mouth, sweet and quick. Harry smiles into it, watching Louis as he pulls back and grins widely at the curly-haired boy.

"Okay," he starts. "I'll be at your flat when you get home, and I probably won't be wearing trousers."

"You better not be." Harry nods, smirking when Louis winks at him.

"Now get out. You've just told every single one of my co-workers what I'm like in bed," Harry says, serious although he's smiling.

"Oops," Louis mutters, trying to hide his smile as he pecks Harry lightly on the lips before turning to leave. If Harry does a little happy dance the second Louis' out the door, no one has to know.

Well, no one except his whistling co-workers, at least.

*

Harry spends the rest of the day bouncing his knee in anticipation to get home. When his shift finally ends, he's already on his feet, fingers trembling as he gathers all of his things and makes his way out of the office without making eye contact with anyone who may know the reason for his haste. He hails a taxi instead of taking the tube, wanting to get home as fast as he possibly can. He bounces on his heels as one pulls up to the curb, relaying his address to the cabbie.

He's itching to text Louis but they both still don't have a phone so he sits in the cab for the next twenty minutes making conversation with the cabbie. He thanks him profusely when they finally arrive at his flat, counting out cash with shaky fingers to pay his fare.

As promised, Louis is asleep on his sofa, only in his briefs and a t-shirt. Harry strips off his shirt and jeans, leaving himself completely bare before crawling into the sofa and on top of the sleeping boy. He starts kissing down his jaw, feeling him stir beneath him as his lips make their way to his collarbone. He keeps his mouth open, each kiss open and wet. He manages to suck a few love bites onto Louis' shoulder and neck before the boy finally wakes up, his hands instantly going to Harry's waist.

"Harry, Jesus," Louis breathes sleepily, craning his neck to see if Harry's as naked as he thinks. He is. Louis already almost fully hard now, Harry doing a number on him while he slept.

"Fuck me," Harry says, hands roaming Louis' torso and lips grazing up and down his jaw.

"Yah? Want daddy to fill you up?" Louis hums, his fingers inching closer to the boy's hole.

"Yeah, yeah, want it so bad," Harry pleads, darting out his tongue to wet his bottom lip.

"Where's the lube baby?" Louis asks, a finger circling Harry's rim, the boy bucking back whining for it. Harry groans, because it's in the bedroom and the prospect of climbing off of Louis is almost sickening.

Then he remembers the bottle Louis left in one of the coffee table drawers months ago and scrambles to reach for it. There's one condom left too, and he checks the expiration date before handing both to Louis.

"Good boy." Louis praises, giving Harry a kiss on the cheek before opening up the bottle of lube. Louis drizzles a small amount on his fingers, pressing kisses to Harry's lips and trailing his slick fingers down to his hole. Harry moans as the first finger pushes in, burying his face into Louis' neck.

"Like that, baby?" Louis hums in his ear, pumping his finger shallowly. Harry nods his head fast, whining softly. Louis is quick to add another finger, knowing his boy can take it. He takes his time with two, crooking them carefully toward Harry's spot and opening him up slowly, loving the way he is writhes and moans on top of him. Harry starts to get impatient when Louis won't add a third finger as he begs him to.

"You're being very greedy, darling," Louis tuts, halting the movement of his fingers but leaving them in up to the knuckle. Harry whimpers, snuggling impossible closer to the boy.

"Sorry, daddy."

"S'okay, baby. Just take what you're given, yeah?" Louis whispers, stroking Harry's hair. Harry nods in understanding, taking a deep breath as Louis starts to fuck his fingers in fast.

"Yeah, fuck," He whimpers brokenly, subconsciously rutting into Louis' hip. Louis kisses the top of Harry's slightly sweaty curls, slowly adding a third finger. Harry's eyelids flutter and he tries his hardest not to push back on it, tightening his legs around Louis' thighs and moaning softly.

"Think you can ride me, sweetheart? Show me how much you've missed daddy's cock." Louis whispers in the boy's ear, making him shiver.

"Yes," Harry hisses, lifting his head long enough to kiss and nip at Louis' jaw. Louis shoves his fingers in once more before pulling away, wiping his hand on the couch and settling back with his hands behind his head.

"Have at it princess."

Harry doesn't even know if he's capable of moving, but the promise of Louis' cock has him proving himself wrong. He sits up slowly and wipes his hair out of his face, fumbling with the band of Louis' briefs for a ridiculous amount of time. When he finally manages to peel them off he grabs the condom off the table and begins rolling it down Louis' prick.

His fingers are shaking and it takes a good amount of concentration but he gets it, Louis humming in approval. Harry positions himself right above Louis' cock, holding onto the base as he slowly sinks down. It's so much, and right away all Harry wants is to lie down and have Louis give it to him fast and hard, but all he can do is moan low in his throat and seat himself on Louis' cock. He gives himself a minute to get familiar with Louis inside of him after so long without him.

"How's it feel, baby?" Louis asks in the meantime, stroking his thumbs softly along Harry's hips.

"Good, so good." Harry whimpers, his hands on Louis' chest to steady himself. He lifts himself tentatively, just an inch or two, getting used to the slow drag. Louis is biting his lip raw as he watches him with lust-filled eyes, his nails digging into Harry's hips. Harry rolls his hips down, hands roaming Louis' torso and breaths wet and heavy.

"Christ you feel amazing." Louis moans, throwing his head back. Harry curls his toes at the praise and drags himself up fast, slams down even faster and lets his body roll forward with the momentum.

"So tight, do you think I should plug you after this? Keep you nice in open." Louis hums, smirking when Harry shivers.

"Fuck, please," Harry whimpers. His thighs are already beginning to ache as he picks up a steady pace, chest slick with a thin sheen of sweat.

"So good for me darling," Louis praises, thrusting up into the boy every now and again just to see the boy fall apart even more.

"Can I touch?" Harry asks, fisting the base of his cock loosely to indicate what he means.

"Sure baby you've been so good." Louis nods. Harry sighs in relief and starts to tug fast on his cock. He tries to find a rhythm, but his head is cloudy and his mind is filled with so many sensations that he just goes with it, repeats the moves that feel the best and searches blindly for Louis' hand to ground himself. Harry's so close, his breathing is choppy and his eyes can't stay open for more than two seconds and Louis doesn't want this to ever end.

"I'm gonna come," Harry whimpers, boneless. His thighs are on fire and he lets his upper body drop down, nuzzling his face into Louis' neck and fucking himself half-heartedly on his cock.

"Go head baby, come for daddy." Louis groans, his own release creeping up on him. Harry tightens his thighs around Louis' hips, fucking down to nudge his prostate and grinding incessantly, stripping his cock twice more before he's spilling all over his fist and Louis' stomach. Louis moans at the sight of the boy falling apart on top of him, thrusting up a few more times before coming inside his boy.

"So good for me," He whispers, digging his nails into the skin of Harry's hips as his hips stutter through the aftershocks. Harry's body sags, his head pressed into the crook of Louis' neck.

"You here, baby?" Louis mutters, carding his fingers through Harry's hair. And for once Harry is, exhausted and breathless and overcome with love, but he couldn't be more anchored down.

"Love you," is Harry's reply, letting out a deep breath. Louis slides his hands up Harry's back, swallowing thickly before he responds.

"Love you, too."

*

"You are horrible at planning dates." Harry states as Louis drags him out of the cab.

"You'll like it," Louis promises, his features glowing under the harsh pink light of the neon sign above them.

"Of course I'm going to like a strip club Lewis, but how is this a date?" Harry replies, squeezing the older boy's hand where it is held between their bodies.

"Because you and I are engaging, as a couple, in a romantic outing in a social setting," Louis says matter-of-factly, pursing his lips.

"A strip club though," Harry points out, his eyebrows raising as he looks down at Louis. Louis scoffs and screws up his eyes, tugging Harry insistently towards the door. They get in no questions ask, Louis knowing his way around and heads them straight to the bar.

The barkeep is a lanky shirtless man wearing a glittery tie and not much else. Harry's fully clothed, somewhat scandalously under Louis' orders, but still fully clothed. Thing is, he feels just as naked.

"Ayeeee Olly! How've you been?" Louis smiles, climbing up onto the bar and hopping over the counter to hug the man.

Oh, Jesus. Louis knows people. Harry should just walk out now.

"Alright Tommo, how bout yourself? Still fucking those hot twins?" Olly laughs, ruffling Louis' hair a bit. Harry aggressively refrains from blurting, " _Wow, I'm so glad Louis Tomlinson and I have regular sex and also he's my boyfriend a bit,_ " and instead awkwardly plays with his fringe.

"No, I'm a one boy kinda man now. Unless you count Zayn, but I think everyone just lets him slide. It's the cheekbones." Louis hums, nodding his head seriously at Olly.

"One boy, eh? Never thought I'd see the day," Olly quips, but the scary part is that he actually seems genuine.

"I happen to be in love you twat." Louis huffs, hitting the man on his sparkly chest. Olly actually laughs, and that's when Louis finally tugs Harry forward by the hand, just sort of keeping their hands there even after he's got Harry front and center. It's awkward to hold his hands since Harry has to lean over the bar slightly but he manages a smile and a small wave to the man with his free hand.

"This is me boyfriend. His name is Harold and he's really good with his hands," Louis declares. Harry's chest still flutters every time Louis uses the b-word; it's fucking embarrassing.

"Hey mate," Harry greets, clearing his throat slightly. Olly whistles, shaking the hand that Harry offers. "My name's Harry, not Harold, by the way. Louis can't grasp that," he adds.

"Sounds about right, nice to meet you lad." Olly laughs, letting go of Harry's hand. They make friendly chit-chat for another minute or so, and Louis keeps butting in with ridiculous comments because he's a nuisance.

Harry's finding him very distracting, mostly because he can tell he's horny by the way his fingers keep finding their way under the hem of Harry's shirt, digging into the flesh. After a few drinks and more chatter, another man comes up from behind the bar to greet Louis.

"Oi, Greg! Nice to see you, mate," Louis greets, letting go of Harry completely to engage in some sort of complicated bro hug.

"It's been ages Lou, whatcha doing here? Came back to give us all a show?" Greg asks, an arm thrown over Louis' shoulder.

"Maybe," Louis answers, winking cheekily. Harry shuffles forward, offering Greg a friendly smile.

"Who's this Lou?" Greg asks, eyeing Harry up and down.

"This is Harry. Me boyfriend," Louis answers without hesitation, briefly squeezing Harry's shoulder.

"Hey," Harry waves, giving Greg a half-smile as he sips on his drink.

"Ay, mate, you broke him!" Greg calls excitedly. Louis is running a hand over his face but still grinning blindingly at Harry's side.

"I'd say he fixed me but, yah. Hey, do you think I could dance tonight?" Louis questions, batting his eyelashes at Greg. Harry sputters and chokes on the cocktail he's nursing, earning cheeky grins from all his companions.

"I don't see why not, but curly gets to pick out your outfit." Greg states with a shit-eating grin. Harry's sort of out of it when Louis shuffles him into a dressing room, can't stop thinking about Louis in a skimpy outfit and thanking God he tucked.

"So Harold, are you going to come in your pants or find me something to wear?" Louis asks, smirking at the slightly dazed look on the younger boy's face.

"That depends on you, babe," Harry comments offhandedly, stumbling towards a rack of glittering clothing. Louis snorts and starts to strip himself of his clothes, waiting impatiently for Harry to pick something out for him.

"Pick me something good and I might grant you a snog," he tells Harry, collapsing into a spinning chair only in his briefs and spinning childishly. Harry has to bite his lip, he's already almost completely hard in his trousers and looking through tight, skimpy outfits for his boyfriend to wear is not helping his situation. He settles on a pair of gold briefs that will hardly cover Louis' arse and a pair of skinny black suspenders.

He's wondering if a bowtie is too much, but when he turns around Louis' already got one around his neck, crooked. He hands over his choices to Louis who looks them over with an approving nod and kisses Harry on the lips in thanks. It lasts maybe half a second, hardly a snog, but then Louis' shimmying out of his tiny briefs in order to pull on the gold ones and Harry thinks maybe that's better. Louis hooks the suspenders on with little difficulty, Harry staring at him with lust-filled eyes and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Give us a twirl, then," Harry says, admittedly a little dazedly. Louis obeys with a small roll of his eyes, turning and giving his bum a good shake just to be a minx.

"Gorgeous," Harry compliments, only half sarcastic. Louis turns back around and flicks his hair out of his eyes.

"Wanna throw some glitter on me?"

"Course, sugar," Harry answers, winking and crossing to the vanity in the corner. He grabs a dish filled with pink and silver glitter and a brush before turning back to Louis as he uncaps the glitter.

"Hit me, baby," Louis says, exaggeratedly throwing his arms out. Harry rolls his eyes fondly, brushing over Louis' tan skin lightly with the glitter.

"Okay, enough cheeky," Louis reprimands playfully when Harry dusts over his crotch. Harry just shoots him a wink and kisses his cheek.

"Okay, look great, now can I blow you?" Harry asks hope shining in his eyes. Louis just swats him.

"No, I have to look presentable, not like I just had a shag," Louis states, turning his nose up mockingly.

"I'm pretty sure that's exactly what you're supposed to look like," Harry points out, but lifts his hands in surrender.

"Shut up and enjoy the show, Harold." Is what Louis responds with before leaving the room, his hips swaying ridiculously.

Harry very much in love and incredibly hard.

He stumbles out after him, wishing he'd thought to suck Louis off before they left so he'd at least be somewhat sated. Greg is already setting Louis up on one of the front poles in the middle of the club, giving his bum a slap and sending him a wink before he brings the microphone in his hand up to his lips.

"Uh, hey. I'm a special guest, but I'm taken, so only grab my arse if you're fit," he says, flashing Harry a grin as he shuffles into the closest seat available.

A few people let out cheers as Louis grabs onto the pole, the shorts and glitter shining in the low lights of the club. Harry notices his bowtie is still crooked. It's probably weird that Louis not knowing how to put on a bowtie properly turns him on a little.

It's also probably weird how turned on he is by all of these people seeing his boyfriend in nothing but glitter and spandex. It's like, Louis' on display for all these people, but Harry's the only one he's fucking at the end of the night.

All eyes on Louis and Harry's the only one he looks back for. He's working the pole like it hasn't been years since he's been on it, moving his hips and flipping his hair and he's so god damn sexy. Harry's as hard as can be, his lips bitten red. 

If he presses down on his crotch every time Louis looks at him, no one has to know.

It's not like he can come, physically, with the way his cock is tucked and pulsing between his thighs. Louis does this thing where he drops low to the ground and humps the pole as he climbs back up and Harry has never wanted to be and in an adamant object as badly as he does now.

Men are whistling and hollering and all Harry can do is stare, chewing at his fingernails the way he does when he's either horny or on edge.

Right now he's both.

When Louis sticks both hands down the back of his shorts Harry just about comes, the bills raining down over the stage only making it hotter.

Harry thought this was the worst date idea ever.

Harry was fucking wrong.

He's harder then he's probably ever been in his life, his boyfriend is fucking pole dancing in tiny shorts and a bow tie that Harry wouldn't mind being choked with later and he feels like he's done a train full of cocaine. Louis' shining, literally raining glitter as he circles the pole. Harry would spread his legs for him right here if he asked, no question.

Fuck.

Harry feels like he's dropping and Louis hasn't even touched him. His raging hard-on is apparently not enough to keep him grounded, so he shoves two fingers in his mouth instead. Louis sees him do it, of course, winking at him as he bends over and runs his hands over his bum, giving his right cheek a smack. And fuck if that doesn't make Harry choke on his own fucking fingers. As pleasing as it is to watch Louis work a pole, Harry much rather he finishes up and dances on him at this point.

It seems he is going to get his wish too, the music is coming to an end as a new song picks up and Louis does a few final moves on the pole. When the last beat of the song echoes out, Louis does a cheeky little bow, and Harry has enough mind to clap for him. Another dancer takes over and he bounces off the stage, ignoring the phone numbers thrown at him and the occasional predatory remark, and moves straight for Harry.

"So how's that for showmanship?"

"Please fuck me." Is all Harry is able to say, his eye completely blown with lust. Louis laughs a little, shuffling closer.

"Not here. I'll blow you, though," He offers. Harry will take it. He grabs onto Louis' hand, both of which are filled with wads of cash, and pulls him back to the dressing room.

"Your eagerness is ruining my other surprise, you know," Louis says as soon as the door is shut and locked, already working at Harry's jeans.

"Surprise?" Harry asks, his brain already slowing down. He's not sure he could say more than one word right now. Louis ignores him and ushers him into a chair, kneeling on the floor and pushing his legs apart to get at his cock. Harry has to squeeze the base of his cock so he doesn't come right then, his eyes screwed shut so he doesn't have to look at the beautiful boy. Louis licks his palm and starts jerking him, painfully slow, and rests his head on Harry's thigh.

"You know you're not gonna come right now, yeah?" He says, a hint of smugness in his tone. Harry nods mutely, taking in ragged breaths through his noses as Louis tugs on his cock.

Louis pets his thigh in approval and ducks down to tongue at the head of his cock lazily. Harry whimpers, turning his head to the side to bite down onto his shoulder. Louis keeps jerking his hand slowly as he fits the tip between his lips, shuffling around on his knees to get comfortable. Harry's hips buck up, making Louis tut and pull back with a disapproving look.

"If you want to come at all tonight I suggest you behave, yeah?" Louis scolds, waiting for Harry to nod before going back down. He takes more down this time, making Harry shutter and try his best not to move.

Harry wonders if Louis will let him get him off, but the feeling of his warm mouth wrapped tight around him cuts his train of thought. He thinks Louis is finally doing it, he's actually going to suck Harry's brain out of his dick.

Tentatively, Harry threads his fingers through Louis' hair. It's not to guide him, because even sexed up like this he knows Louis would never have it, but just for something to do with hands. Louis' own hands are massaging Harry's thighs slow but rough, making his legs twitch.

"You're so quiet," Louis pulls off to comment, smirking a little as he continues working at Harry's cock with his hand and tongue.

"Wanna be good," Harry whimpers, biting at his bottom lip.

"You're good," Louis' quick to reassure, ducking down to kiss Harry's thigh. "I like it when you're noisy like you can't help it."

"Can't." Harry agrees quickly, letting out a small moan as Louis teases the head of his cock with his thumb. It's not like Harry's mad for Louis' approval (he sort of is), but then he does…... something with his tongue, and speeds up his hand, and suddenly Harry's gagging for it all over again.

He just wants to come, he knows Louis wants to tease him to hell and back so he is more likely to be crowned the queen then get off.

"Fuck," He hisses, mostly to himself, feeling himself start to seize up.

"Don't." Is all Louis says, noticing Harry tensing up under his touch.

"Won't. I'll tell you, please, keep going," Harry whimpers, sentences chopped and shaky. Louis watches him for a second to make sure he's not going to come before nodding and ducking his head back down.

Harry likes that he trusts him.

He likes Louis, basically.

He really likes Louis.

Like he can see them with three kids and a mortgage and a tire swing in the front yard and a nice mini van and oh god Harry would love to be a football mom.

These thoughts keep trickling through his mind, and he makes it maybe three more minutes before he's murmuring, "stop, stop, stop, fuck, gonna come."

Louis doesn't listen at first, Harry positive Louis wants him dead before he finally pulls off with a wet sucking sound. Harry lets out a shaky breath and lets his head hang back, lips parted as he wipes at the sweat along his hairline.

"So I have a proposal." Louis states, smirking up at Harry from his place between his legs.

"Yes," Harry says without hesitation, a little groggy. Louis laughs gently, petting Harry's hip.

"Let me finger you in the cab and you can come while we are in there." Harry bites down hard on his lip, heat coiling in his belly as he nods fast.

"Good boy," Louis praises, pushing back some of Harry's curls before giving him a kiss.

"Love you," Harry says with a dopey smile, hard dick no more than a dull throbbing. He likes Louis so much he's not paying attention.

"Love you too darling." Louis chuckles, standing up and helping Harry tuck himself back into his pants. Harry's legs are admittedly a little wobbly when he stands, and he can't help maybe accidentally falling on Louis' mouth. Louis lets him enjoy it at least, his hands tight on Harry's waist as Harry's tongue is in his mouth running over every inch he can.

"Thanks," Harry murmurs against his mouth, pressing a final chaste kiss to the corner of Louis' mouth.

"Course love, you ready?" Louis hums, grabbing his clothes from where he had stripped them off earlier. Harry whines when Louis pushes the suspenders from his shoulders because fuck if he'll ever see Louis dressed like this again.

On their wedding day, maybe.

Fuck Harry shouldn't think about their wedding. He'll come for sure.

Louis pushes his shorts down his thighs, giving Harry brief glance at his half-hard cock. Harry has to lace his hands behind his back so he won't touch, his eyes boring holes into Louis' ass.

"Fuck off," Louis scolds playfully, swatting at Harry's arm. Harry shrugs, unashamed handing Louis his shirt and shoes. Louis dresses quickly, flashing Harry a tube of lube peeking from his front pocket and smirking.

"I hate you sometimes," Harry states flatly as he is dragged out of the club.

"Definitely won't be saying that when I've got three fingers rubbing your spot and you're leaking all over yourself," Louis' almost purring, lips brushing Harry's ear.

"Fucking hell," Harry curses, a shiver running down his spine at Louis' words.

"Mm," Louis hums, digging his fingers into Harry's lower back as he hails a cab with his opposite hand. One pulls up shortly, Harry getting dragged into the back seat. Louis rattles off the address and tells the driver to take his time, then resolutely slides the partition shut and ushers Harry into his lap. Harry blushes but does as he's told silently, arranging his long limbs into Louis' lap. The bottle of lube hangs from Louis' teeth as he undoes Harry's zipper and shoves his pants down over his bum and thighs.

Harry buries his face into Louis' neck, whimpering softly as Louis squeezes some lube onto his fingers. It's dark out and the windows are tinted and the driver can't see them so Harry's not sure why he feels so hot, like he's been caught doing something naughty.

It's the notion, he thinks, the thought of someone seeing them that has him breathing wetly into Louis' neck before he's even been touched.

Louis kisses Harry on the head as a finger reaches around to tease at Harry's rim. Harry tightens his legs around Louis' thighs, whimpering mutely against his skin. Louis eases in half of his middle finger, wasting no time. Harry holds back his moan, his lip bitten raw as Louis' finger moves inside him fast.

"Grind on me," Louis hums in his ear, pumping his finger shallowly. Harry nods his head, his hips circling down heavily. From there, things get heated as if they weren't already, and Louis stills his finger so Harry has to do all the work. He's not completely opposed.

He earns the next finger, his arms wrapped around Louis' neck as he works himself up and down. He's not getting much friction, but he's steadily rubbing Louis off through his pants and Harry's so worked up he knows he'll come anyway. Louis adds a third finger, and a forth not even a minute after making Harry arch his back at the burn.

"You take 'em so well," Louis praises, practically purring as Harry twists and groans in his lap. Harry groans, shoving his arse down harder at Louis' words, wanting to make him proud.

"M'close," He whimpers, head of his cock rubbing against Louis' hard belly and dampening a spot on his t-shirt where it's leaking.

"You can come, baby, go head," Louis says, kissing Harry's neck sweetly.

"Fuck," Harry cries out weakly, snaking a hand between their bodies to jerk himself off roughly. Louis slaps his hand off, giving him a look.

"No touching darling, want you to come just from my fingers." Harry breathes out shakily, sliding the same hand into Louis' hair and rolling his hips down fervently, working to nudge his spot.

Louis pets his back and twists a hand into Harry's hair, pulling his head back so his neck is exposed. Harry makes an embarrassingly loud noise as he feels his neck strain, feels Louis' pointy teeth sinking into his throat just barely.

Louis' hand moves from his hair to wrap around his throat, pressing enough to make Harry gasp and come untouched. He writhes in Louis' lap and bites his cheek to contain his noises.

He just keeps coming and coming and Louis' _still squeezing_ , not hard enough to cut off his air supply but enough to make the suggestion. When he's finally done coming Louis starts to move his fingers, making Harry shiver at the sensitivity.

"You want me to - " Harry starts, but then the cabbie is clearing his throat and tapping on the partition. Louis pulls his fingers out and pats Harry's bum to move him off his lap to pay the cabbie. Harry, though he's a little dazed, has enough mind to hike his jeans and pants back up over his bum, tucking halfheartedly and doing up the zipper.

Louis gently pulls the boy out of the cab, an arm wrapped around his waist as he leads Harry inside. Harry leans on him heavily, reveling in the way his throat still throbs numbly.

"You like that baby?" Louis asks, his mouth right at Harry's ear, biting teasingly. Harry's fingers linger against his own throat. He sort of wishes Louis had left a bruise, can't stop thinking about it as he nods helplessly. Louis beings his hand up to trace over Harry's neck lightly with the tips of his fingers, humming as Harry holds back a shiver.

"That was nothing, baby," Louis says, nosing Harry's jaw as he pushes open the door to the complex. Harry whimpers at his words, trying to push his neck more into Louis' face. Louis ignores him and rolls his eyes, ushering Harry along.

"I'm not going to choke you in the bloody stairwell, c'mon, love," He says. Harry whines at the injustice but follows him up the stairs, only dragging his feet a little.

Louis digs Harry's key out of his back pocket and unlocks the door to his flat, free arm secure around Harry's waist. Harry's trying to press himself as close as humanly possible to the boy, his nose buried in Louis' neck.

Louis feels his hot breath and fingers digging into his skin, feels the occasional wet kiss pressed to his shoulder, and he needs Harry's mouth, like, yesterday. Harry can't stop touching Louis, his hands are under his shirt dancing over every inch of his body he can get to.

"C'mon, bed," Louis urges, humoring Harry with a few chaste kisses before pushing him along. Harry's throwing off his clothes before they even get into the hall, kicking off his boots as he presses Louis against the wall to mouth at his neck.

"Up for it again already?" Louis teases halfheartedly, not protesting when Harry wedges a leg between his thighs.

"Will you-please, please," Harry begs, rutting against Louis.

"I don't know what that means, baby," Louis lies. He wants to hear Harry say it, always does. Harry ducks his head down, a blush covering his cheeks as he answers.

"Will you please choke me daddy."

God, Louis wants to. He knows it's dangerous and there are a million factors as to why, but he's lived quite a...colorful life and he knows what he's doing,  
to say the least.

"Do you have a safe word?" Louis asks, his eyes darkening. Harry blinks slowly, looking so far gone Louis' actually a bit nervous, but he finally answers. "Yeah. Can't say much though."

"Alright well tell me it just in case and if I go to far I want you to kick your legs out three times," Louis instructs. Harry nods in understanding, bucking his hips into Louis like he can't help it.

"Peaches," He answers. He's never used it.

"Alright, anything else you'd like today darling?" Louis hums, his fingers pulling at Harry's nipple.

"Just wanna - you. Wanna make you feel good," Harry answers without hesitation, words admittedly a little jumbled but intent clear.

"How baby?" Louis asks a strong hand in his hair, tugging Harry's head back.

"Fuck me, I don't have to come, just - wanna feel you," Harry mumbles, almost slurring. He may have had one too many daiquiris, with a sex high on top of it.

"Alright baby, let's go." Louis hums, grabbing Harry's hand to lead him to the bedroom. Harry follows eagerly, squeezing Louis' fingers with more strength in necessary, like he might disappear if he doesn't hold on. Louis gets the rest of Harry's clothes off when they get into the room, making quick working of his own. Harry feels glorious, floaty and giddy like he only feels when he's about to be fucked, this time with an added bonus.

"Do you want your hands free?" Louis asks, pushing Harry down onto the bed and straddling his waist. Harry weighs it out, twisting his wrists together as he thinks.

On one hand, he loves to touch Louis, like, more than anything.

But on the other, he always comes so hard when he's all tied up and he's not sure if he wants to be able to push Louis away, when his hands are around his throat.

He slowly shakes his head no, holding both his hands out for Louis to take. Louis swipes his tongue over his bottom lip briefly, brushing Harry's thin wrists with two fingers. He breaks eye contact, then, as he shuffles away to the edge of the bed. He sits back up with two of Harry's scarves and a smirk, grabbing Harry's left wrist and tying it to the bed frame. Doing the same to the other.

"S'it good?" Louis asks immediately when he's finished. "Tight enough? Too tight?"

And Harry loves his concern, really, but all he can do in response is breathe out an impatient, frustrated noise.

"Alright love, I got you," Louis promises, spreading open Harry's legs and setting himself in between them.

A rush of arousal spreads through Harry's abdomen, seeing Louis look at him the way he is. He can't help but whimper a little, curling his fingers around the bedposts. Louis presents his hand to Harry, silently telling him to get his fingers wet while his other hand wraps around Harry's cock.

Harry eagerly wraps his lips around Louis' fingers, ignoring the way his neck twinges in protest since he has to lift his head to do so. Louis works his hand over Harry's cock skillfully, making the boy whine around the fingers in his mouth. Harry flattens his tongue and tugs at his restraints; it's impossible to take Louis deeper and he wishes he could lift himself on his elbows.

Louis seems to see him struggling, taking pity on him and shoving his fingers further down Harry's throat. Harry hums his appreciation and draws his knees up carefully, hoping Louis will take the hint and fucking _fuck_ him already. He had more than enough prep in the cab, anyway.

Louis chuckles at his eagerness, letting go of Harry's cock with a final sneeze before grabbing his own. Harry would probably take him dry at this point, just so desperate to have him inside, filling him up. His arsehole is still tacky with lube from earlier, anyway, but Louis still reaches for the sachet in his discarded jeans.

"Lou please," Harry begs when Louis pulls his fingers from Harry's mouth and sticks all three inside his ass. He doesn't even move to slick himself up, abandoning the lube and his own cock in favor of tweaking Harry's nipples with his free hand.

Harry starts to shake slightly trying to keep still for Louis. His bum burning a bit from the pressure of Louis' fingers, making him ache for more. He goes for subtle hints rather than outright begging for it, squirming and whimpering and clenching around Louis' fingers to show him he's ready, for fuck's sake.

Louis finally gives him what he needs and pulls his fingers out, holding his cock to Harry's entrance and slowly status to push in. Harry lets out a ridiculous breathless noise as soon as he feels the head push past his rim, legs loosely wrapped around Louis' waist.

Louis doesn't take his time, as soon as the head is in he is pushing all the way in till his hips meet Harry's arse cheeks.

"Fuck," Harry cries out, heels digging into Louis' lower back. He's always pleasantly surprised at how _thick_ Louis is, no matter how many times he's slept with him.

Louis doesn't give him any time to adjust, he wraps a hand around Harry's neck just enough to cut off most of his air and starts to pound into him.

Harry's first instinct is to shove Louis away, but he _can't_ due to his restraints and he literally cannot breathe and he never wants to have that ability again.

Louis' grip is tight but it's not tight enough, Harry needs more. He pushes his neck up in hopes to tell Louis that's it's okay to go harder. Louis either misses the hint or ignores it.

Instead, he takes away his grip completely, and Harry's body instinctively gulps in the air he was denied followed by a whine. Louis replaces his hand with his mouth, biting hard on the side of Harry's neck, his pace never faltering.

There's nothing Harry wants to do more than slide his hands into Louis' hair and keep him there, biting at the most sensitive spots on Harry's neck so hard Harry forgets to breathe anyway.

He keeps pulling at his restraints, almost to remind himself they are there. Keeping him in his place for Louis. He feels like he's starving, needs to touch so badly, but at the same time there's nothing that turns Harry on like being denied what he needs does.

Louis trails harsh, bruising kisses down Harry's neck and to his nipple, taking the nub between his teeth and sucking hard as he bites down. He has to arch his back awkwardly to stay inside Harry and his thrusts are stilted, but he's being roughed up like no other and that's all that matters as several moans and cries fall from his lips.

Louis brings his hand back up to Harry's neck as he continues to torture Harry's nipples. He doesn't apply any pressure right away, and somehow that's worse than when he didn't have his hands on Harry at all. Like it's tangible, close enough for Harry to taste and he can't fucking do anything about it. He starts to choke out words that just tangle together, his head going from side to side as he tries to get Louis to just fucking choke him.

He's so frustrated he could cry, and actually, he does register then that his cheeks do feel a bit wet. Louis tightens his hand just slightly, pulling off of Harry's nipple with a loud pop, then shuffles up onto his elbows.

"You okay baby?" Louis asks, wiping away the small tears.

" _Yes_ ," Harry gasps out, opening his eyes (he didn't realize they were closed in the first place). He meets Louis' gaze, surprised to find uncertainty in his eyes for the first time ever.

"You-harder." Harry breaths, his head spinning slightly as he bares more of his neck to Louis. Louis' uneasy expression twists into something more steely, trusting that Harry will tell him to stop if he needs him to.

"Yeah, alright," He finally mutters. Harry lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, smiling blissfully up at Louis as the boy tightens his hand back around Harry's neck. He braces himself on his elbows and slows down the pace of his thrusts to a deep agonizing grind right against Harry's spot.

"Da-daddy fuck, oh god." Harry pants, taking in a sharp breath when Louis' hand tighten around his neck.

His following whine is swallowed up when Louis really bears down, pressing bruises into his throat and stunting his air supply. He feels like he's floating, like he doesn't need air he only needs Louis, just Louis. He squeezes his eyes shut and Louis presses down harder, never picking up his slow pace.

Harry mouth falls open, trying to suck in oxygen but he _can't_ and Harry loves it so much and he's so _so_ close. Louis presses his mouth to Harry's jaw, letting off his throat just barely so Harry can suck in a weak breath. He connects their lips in a messy kiss, sucking hard on Harry's bottom lip as he drills his cock into the helpless boy.

"Close," Harry gasps out when Louis allows him another breath. Louis hums in acknowledgment, his pace never quickening even if his hand squeezes around Harry's throat harder.

"You've been so good. You can come whenever you want, sweetheart," he encourages.

He makes no move to touch Harry's cock, but he's looking down at him with a fixed expression, like he's in awe, and that's what has Harry writhing and gasping for air he can't get as he spills all over himself.

Louis isn't far behind, Harry has barely stopped coming before Louis is spilling his load inside of him. He cries out and lets go of Harry's neck in favor of gripping his shoulder with sharp nails while he rides it out.

Harry gulps in large breathes, his chest heaving as Louis rides out his high. Louis slows down as he finishes, then stills inside Harry.

He doesn't pull out when he gently lowers himself down, pressing their sweaty chests together. Harry quite likes him there, warm and heavy and breathing on top of him. Louis places soft, gentle kisses on Harry Harry's neck and face, making the boy smile brightly.

"How're you feeling, love?" Louis asks quietly after a full three minutes of lazy kisses and soft touches.

"Brilliant." Harry sighs dreamily, making Louis chuckle and smile fondly.

"It was good?" Louis continues, petting at Harry's sides.

"The best," Harry states, biting his lip when he goes to wrap his arms around Louis only to be stopped by his bounds.

"Shit, sorry, baby," Louis mutters, carefully pulling his limp cock out of Harry - both of them wince a little - before scrambling to undo Harry's wrists. Harry misses the warmth immediately, but it's back soon enough. Louis kisses both his wrists gently, watching as Harry sucks in a breath as he holds them together tightly.

"Thank you," Harry says without really meaning anything behind it. He's so /tired/ all of the sudden, and although Louis' just hovering above him he's too far away.

"You're welcome darling. Sleep." Louis hums, kissing Harry's cheek sloppy before rolling onto Harry's left side to spoon him. Harry feels a bit filthy but he's not about to disagree, curling up to make himself smaller.

"I love you curly," Louis whispers into the younger boy's hair.

Harry tries to say it back but his tongue feels too heavy, so he just drags his hand down to where Louis' is resting on his tummy and laces their fingers together.

It's enough.

*

"I do not have tiny hands you bastard you're just a fucking yeti!" Louis huffs loudly in the middle of the Apple Store after Harry had rudely pointed out that Louis hand was barely able to hold the iPhone 6 let alone the plus.

Harry waggles his eyebrows ridiculously.

"You know what they say about boys with big hands," He says rather suggestively.

Louis narrows his eyes.

"It's easier to rip your dick off." Louis snaps, making Harry roll his eyes.

"They can hold iPhones properly," Harry says anyway.

The smack he gets on the arm is worth Louis' expression, like he's torn between acting annoyed or fond.

"You are the worst boyfriend I have ever had," Louis states, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry's boyfriend is so smol.

"You don't mean that," Harry says, grinning.

Louis doesn't, though to be fair, he doesn't have anything to compare him to.

Harry keeps grinning as Louis mutters to himself and turns his back to Harry, not protesting when Harry wraps his arms around his middle. The cellphone display is still daunting when Louis' faced with it again, the side effect of turning away from Harry (there are actually a lot if side effects for the aforementioned but he refuses to delve into that). Louis' going home with a flip phone, probably.

"You could get the 5c, it's a nice size." Harry hums, his breathing tickling Louis' neck.

Louis hums and barely holds back a shiver. Harry should probably let go of him before he gets a boner or worse: he agrees with him.

(Louis loves Harry but he has no problem overcomplicating nearly every situation just to see Harry get frustrated.)

"They should make waterproof iPhones so I can put it in your arse." Louis comments, smirking when Harry tenses slightly.

"That'd give sexting a whole new meaning," Harry jokes weakly in response.

"I'm gonna get the biggest one they can and ruin it in your arse," Louis replies, elbowing Harry's half-heartedly in the side.

"Just pick out a bloody mobile," Harry groans, unwinding himself from around Louis' middle and ushering Louis towards the display with his hands low on his back.

"Don't get cheeky with me Harold," Louis warns, running his hands over all the phones.

"What're you gonna do?" Harry murmurs, dimple poking inwards as he smirks.

"Make you regret the fact you have a dick," Louis replies, narrowing his eyes at Harry.

"You're so dramatic. I can't believe you didn't jump at the chance to get me riled up in public," He sighs, pouting subtly.

"You've haven't been a very good boy now have you? Why should daddy give you something you like?" Louis hums, smirking to himself.

Harry hums, biting back a smile and feeling heat crawl up his neck.

"Who says I don't have something planned for you when we get home?" Louis says, looking at Harry over his shoulder, his mouth turned up in a cocky smirk.

Harry just blinks slowly, lips slightly parted. Louis notices his fingers are digging into his hips a bit, and it leaves him satisfied knowing he's successfully got Harry flustered.

"What are you going to do at home?" Harry asks slowly, his voice deeper then usual.

"Hm. Depends on if you quit being snarky," Louis answers carefully.

"I will," Harry promise fast, his arms tightening around Louis.

"Good. Anyway, d'ya think I should just get a Samsung?" Louis quickly averts from the subject, since he knows the look in Harry's eyes means he's five minutes away from asking Louis if he can suck him off in the loo, which he doesn't exactly need happening in the shop.

"No get the 6, and get me the plus I'm gonna pop 'round to the shop I took you too that one time." Harry states, flipping Louis around and planting a hard wet kiss to his mouth before pulling away and stepping back from him. It takes Louis a minute to gather himself back up before speaking.

"You've took me to lots of - oh," Louis' face changes as he realizes, twisting into something almost comical. "And what do you plan on buying there?" Harry shrugs his shoulders, his hands clasps behind his back as he walks backwards out of the shop. Louis narrows his eyes, but he doesn't stop him.

"Oh and by the way," Harry smiles coyly, slowly lifting his hand up in the air, a Marvel Superheroes wallet held loosely in it.

Louis' wallet.

"Fuck," Louis mutters, patting his back pocket, and yeah, it's empty and Harry's in fact not holding a decoy.

Louis refuses to believe his fucking boyfriend just stole his fucking wallet.

He stares open-mouthed, too surprised to stop Harry when he scuttles out the door with a smirk. He's lucky he still has his card in his hand from earlier so he can still pay for their phones, but he never actual recovers from the shock even after he's got it all set up and paid for.

When he meets back up with Harry, he's got a new dildo paid for with Louis' money, and he doesn't stop bragging the whole way home.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think :)


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